Changes In Two Lifetimes
by Paolo Anson Ramon
Summary: Theodore wasn't really that special to begin with... "Dying wasn't really in my agenda... Same with living again..." Then again things change all the time. SI.
1. Prolouge

**Disclaimer: I don't own Percy Jackson, only Rick does. Cause not only would that be weird, I'm sure that dozens of millions of fangirls/fanboys would beat the living shit out of me. Oh and Annabeth would probably do a Judo Flip on me which brings me to a question. How the hell did she know that? And thanks for Galesynch in giving me permission to base the beginning of this story. Galesynch's stories are awesome!**

**Prolouge**

Reincarnation

Rebirth. Reborn. These are words to describe the situation I was in.

It was easy to say it. To speak of it.

My name is Theseus "Theodore" Jackson. (Sounds familiar?)

You probably wouldn't know me. Even in my old life, I was a nobody.

Well, it wasn't always like that. Before I was reborn-

Oh yeah. Would you believe if I told you that I was reborn? In a world where monsters exists?

No? Kinda? Yes?

Then you are either crazy or you have a pretty good idea of what I was feeling.

Well, I didn't believe it at first.

The story starts with the last thing I could remember...

* * *

I remembered that I was drowning. Wherever I was it was so tight, hard to breathe and then-

_I couldn't breathe. Water surrounded me and then suddenly. _

Light.

"WAHHHHHH!" A baby's cries echoed through my ears.

_Shut_ up. I groaned. _ I just want to sleep…_

And as soon as it came, it stopped. I looked around, my throat felt raw as if I had been crying.

_Which was impossible, cause I was drowning and then-_

I continued to look around, feeling sheets around me I sighed.

It was just a dream after all.

I squinted, the lights was _so_ bright and are those-voices? I craned my head as I tried to take a look around.

_People._

Dozens of them were talking. Muffled voices accompanied with a few beeps of a couple of electronics. I blinked as I tried to regain feeling in my legs once more.

_A hospital then._

When did I go to the hospital? I tried to look around, when somThe world seemed different. Blurry figures intercepted my line of sight, which wasn't that weird at all cause that would mean that my contacts have moved or-

Suddenly the hairs on my neck rose up and just as suddenly, an overpowering aura surrounded me. The aura was powerful and commanding, but gentle at the same time. The presence made me wants to lie on the floor and listen to the power of the sea. The feeling was accompanied with the action of being lifted into someone's arms, in turn, overwhelmed me.

_What the-? Excuse me sir, but I hate being manhandled. _I thought angrily. But as I tried to escape, the figure's arms held me tighter, but not harsh, as if one would to a baby. Suddenly I caught a whiff of the sea.

_The sea? Does that mean we're near the ocean? But Texas is far away from any oceans._

I calmed down albeit in confusion. What was going on? Fidgeting as I was being cradled on someone's chest, I attempted to voice out my complaint, but all I managed to do was swat the figure's flat chest.

A man's.

"Shh…Baby Theseus…Shh…." The man cooed. I stiffened.

_Theseus? What the hell-? My name's Ryan, not Theseus!? And I'm certainly not a baby. _I thought, once again trying to swat the man with my hands but failing. The hairs on my neck calmed down slightly, but I was still confused. The man chuckled and then a finger filled my view.

My chubby fingers settled on holding the man's finger, very, very, hard in an attempt to show my annoyance. But the man simply chuckled.

Wait. Chubby fingers?!

Curiously, I closed my hand. The baby's hand did the same. Overcome by sudden emotion, I felt that I was about to cry.

"My, Theseus is quite strong Sally." The man murmured joy apparent in his voice. I looked up, I couldn't see, but a warm glow seemed to come from the man. I couldn't see his features clearly, but maybe, just maybe, he was smiling. "And smart-I can see why you decided to call him that."

Suddenly, I was moved into another figure's arms. A woman.

I blushed.

"Yes. And here is the other one-"

"Oh?" Surprise was laced in the man's voice, and so I was I. I listened intently. I heard a shifting of cloth and another cry. Except that the cry was louder and a bit longer.

"Wow, Perseus, you have a powerful set of lungs don't you?" And just like that. The boy, Perseus, slowly stopped crying.

"I think he inherited it from you Poseidon."

My heart almost jumped off its place in my body.

_Wait- Sally, Perseus, Poseidon….. Don't tell me…. It's impossible…._

The man chuckled. But suddenly his voice turned slightly grim. "But Sally? Twins? _Twins?_ Don't you know that it will be very hard to keep them safe? If my one of my brothers found out- or worse, both of them-"

He left the sentence dangling.

A beat.

_Wait, I thought Percy's mum said that Poseidon never knew what he looked like then how-_ I shook my head. _It must be my presence, but if my presence was able to mess up with the story of Percy's dad... _

"I know." Sally sighed, rocking me back and forth. Her soft humming and constant motion was allowing a yawn to escape my now open mouth. I rubbed my eyes with my chubby hands, wanting to gain more information.

_Curse this baby body of mine. Always wanting to fall asleep._

"-which is why I named them after the smartest and luckiest heroes. Especially Percy."

"Percy?"

"Perseus."

"Oh."

Silence, and then a sigh. He then continued to cradle Percy.

"Well, Perseus. You have a lot of things you need to face." A yawn erupted from my mouth and I started to feel sleepy, unnaturally so.

Posideion chuckled,"You too Theseus. And I have a feeling you will need all the luck you can get-" A pause.

"-Perseus and Theseus Jackson.-" He mused, a few heavy footsteps and soon a warm body occupied the space beside me. I wriggled uncomfortably. "-It has a nice ring to it no?" Somehow, I knew that he was talking to me.

No response.

"Now sleep."

The way he said it. The way that he basically commanded me, made something in the back of my mind stir. As if it was saying.

_No way am I taking orders from anybody!_

I fought the urge to fall asleep. Somehow I _knew_ that when I would wake, that something would become _missing_ from my life, and I didn't want that. Though I tried to fight it, I was still a baby. A baby fresh from our mother's-um-_stomach_ and I knew that I wouldn't be able to stay awake any longer. As my eyelids slowly flickered, Poseidon dispersed into sea mist. My head dropped twice and then...

My world went black.

* * *

**A/N: This is dedicated to GaleSynch. This author has the absolute best SI stories I've read in a long time. Be sure to check out her stories like Your Saving Grace(PJO), Dragons Among Us (Fairy Tale) and others.**


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

The very moment I woke up in a cradle with my-fictional-character-but-now-turned-brother was the very moment when I had to accept that fact that I was in the world of Percy Jackson. It wasn't easy to swallow that fact either. That meant that my friends, my family, were gone. All gone.

(Or if my theory works, in a different dimension.)

Reliving my life as a baby again was weird. I had to learn how to walk, talk, sit, crawl and eat. I had to rely on someone else to change my diapers or to pick me up if I fell down (and that happened a lot.) My life usually consisted of this routine:

Sleep

Wake up

Eat

Play

(Go back to no.1 and Repeat. (Repeat, repeat, repeat.))

* * *

Three years passed and I finally got the ability to stand up, run, and hop, and do other basic movements, but even then I had the same lifestyle, if not a bit adjusted. It was funny how Sally would often try to teach us how to speak, when I already knew some "_advanced langua_ges" when I get angry. But apparently that "word" would get gurgled and all I had to do was act cute and no one would ever know. (A technique I started to pick up to get away with a few things.)

I scratched my now black hair as I tried to peer into Sally's purse in instinctive child-like curiousity. I recently looked into the mirror and saw-

_Percy?_

At first I was surprised.

I mean, I was so used to seeing a person with green eyes and blonde hair staring back at me dully and without that much life in his eyes. So when I gazed into the little handmirror I pried open from it's little case, it was quite a shock.

I was almost an exact replica of Percy.

Same unruly raven black hair.

Same nose.

And the same mischiveous aura that we seemed to make.

But if I looked closer, there were a few differences, and one of those was that I took more to Sally in terms of height. I was a bit _shorter_ than Percy, but it didn't mean that I would _grow up short, _I also had ocean blue eyes, and a familar twinkle that always appears in Sally's eyes no matter what mood she was in. My skin tone also came from her, meaning I didn't have that _natural_ tan Percy had, but I didn't mind. I also had chubby arms, but since neither parents were fat in anyway, I knew that it was just_ baby fat_ and that _I wouldn't grow up_ fat (If camp has anything to say about that).

I smiled brightly, my chubby cheeks making my grin turn into a sort of a cute smile.

I'm gonna like this body.

* * *

I can't say that I didn't like this lifestyle. I can't say that it was boring either.

Every time Sally goes home. She would turn on the television and let us watch some "Fun educational videos." It was-_interesting_ to say at least.

I would try to sit there and watch, but after five seconds of boredom, Percy and I would try to wrestle each other for fun. Which would then lead us to an epic massive fight to the death- until Percy falls asleep, leaving me alone on the carpeted floor.

I _could_ say that I didn't get in trouble after that, but Sally started to figure out that it was _I _who started it and began to banish the only thing I had for entertainment, the T.V.

I didn't cry or sulked about that, it was the fact that without it, my flights to sleepy land was only three steps away. I didn't mind, everything was peaceful and knowing the future, I knew that I better stop whining about _boredom_ or I might not even _live_ to see another _boring day again. _

I figured that out when a monster entered our house. I was four or five I think when Sally married a mortal man, a smelly one that is. Gabe Ugliano with a massive size, pig-like eyes, a double-chin and a mean tongue, he could pass for any monster. We were around five, meaning that Percy and I could speak, and by the time we did, oh boy did we get into _a lot_ of _trouble_.

Smelly Gabe was far from nice-he was a monster to human kind. To be fair, he didn't abuse us in any perverted way, even with Sally- at least, not that I know of- and I even assured Percy that Gabe would be long gone even before we go to college. Which was true, though Percy didn't have to know any of that right?

There was that one time when he chucked my head in the toilet because I tried to punch him, but I was still five so surely I would be able to get Sally on the job right? Make her put Smelly Gabe in a Time out corner outside the house-permanently.

Things didn't go up for us during preschool.

I remember when the daycare teacher or something, left us in a hurry to do some "_private business_"in the toilet. Tired from playing and watching overly hyper kids running around, I took an extra long nap and the next thing I knew, a snake slithered in the room, trying to wrap itself unsuccessfully around my neck. I soon found out however, that the only reason that I was _alive_ was because _Percy_ somehow strangled it to _death_.

You heard me right, strangle it to death.

I never really considered the fact that I was very much _alive_ and Percy is not just any character, but my new found _brother_. To say I was grateful was an understatement; I vowed that I would protect him as best as I could. (not that he needed protection anyways.)

The teacher/daycare personnel didn't notice anything peculiar with a "_long rubber jump rope._" and let us play with it for awhile. I was interested with the head and later on, Percy and I, with our combined strengths, managed to rip the head off the snake, with me playing with it as an improvised puppet. By the time we had to go home Sally nearly had a heart attack when Percy and I showed "mom" our new _"toy."_

For a while, things got a little wonky before we had to move. Things were arguable peaceful for a while. Sure we got into a _few fights_,("They're kids, and it was their first time. They didn't know that was wrong." Sally argued.) _and sure_ the bathroom would get _really soaked_ for _unknown reasons, ("Sally!_ Your kids doesn't want to take a damn bath!"), but otherwise nothing _"totally"_ destructive happened.

And then the fight started.

It wasn't exactly a _fight _but it was the first heated argument between Gabe and Mum. And guess what the most hated and most loved people in the world (at least that's what Percy said) were fighting about.

Blue food.

It all started with Percy asking:

"Mom. Are there Blue cookies?" Percy's sea green eyes were wide and bright with anticipation and curiosity.

"Yes dear, there are blue coloured food like-"Sally started, drying her hands on the towel and started to ruffle his hair.

When Gabe interrupted with a loud,"No."

Percy looked defeated and kinda angry. I pretended to not pay attention. As I sat on the dinner table, sipping my grape juice with my feet dangling haphazardly, Sally didn't mind, I tried to keep an indifferent facade.

(The sofa was currently occupied by our smelly step-dad, and I hate that guy already, no need for me to give him a better reason to chuck me across the room.)

But it was hard to keep up an indifferent facade when Percy kept looking at me, as if asking for backup. With a sigh, I sipped the last of my grape juice and got off of the table via chair and asked a similar thing. Besides, I wanted to test a theory with my favorite colour.

"Mom? How about Green Cookies?"

She was about to answer a similar thing when Gabe yelled, "Sally, there is no such thing as Blue and Green cookies. Besides-" he said, folding his newspaper on his lap and leaning slightly to fish the remote from the pile of food and chips. "Those are such stupid colours."

Then he said in a lower tone, "Just like the colour of those brats' eyes." I guess Gabe didn't _mean_ it to be heard, but unfortunately it did and just like that, Sally decided that every day, she would bring blue and green cookies for Percy and I (respectively) from the shop she works in, as well as the free samples.

Eventually, the trend caught up with me and before I knew it, I _too_ was eating coloured food. I had a special fondness for them since, in my past life, my mum and dad (both bakers) would bake me cookies, pastries and the sorts. I knew from that moment on, that though I was reborn and that I might not see my real parents again, at least I had a new mother figure.

As I sat on the table, with Percy on my side, I made another promise that I vowed to keep. I will protect Sally no matter what.

* * *

**_A/N: I wonder, if Perseus/Percy would get a sword as a weapon, then how about Theseus/Theo? Comment any suggestions below. Comments and reviews are appreciated. _**


	3. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer-I Don't Own Percy Jackson Or His Life Story**

**Chapter 2**

Years passed and things went without a hitch, well most of the time. Sure there were a few times monsters tried to attack us, but like Percy, I turned a blind eye. But this time, this monster was persistent.

I was in 3rd grade.

A man stalked Percy and I through the playground during our third grade at our third school. "The man" was wearing a fedora hat and a long trench coat, sort of like a spy would wear. I knew from the moment that guy started stalking us that it was a monster since the back of my neck seems to rise up. I figured that it usually happens when a _deity_ or any _non_-_mortal_ passed by me. Like other times, I turned a blind eye, but _boy_ is this _Cyclopes_ _persistent_. Did it worry me?

Nah.

Eventually the teacher threatened to call the authorities when we told her. The persistent Cyclopes laid off, but as he looked at us with his one eye, I knew that Percy saw it too. Percy tried to tell the teacher, but the teacher just looked at him worriedly.

"Are you sure you're alright Jackson? Maybe you stayed out too long in the sun, it is awfully warm." The teacher suggested kindly.

I snorted_. What a liar_. It was April, and April tends to get a little cold in New York.

Percy looked at her in disbelief.

I sighed, "Come on Perce, she won't believe us-"

"But-"

"Percy-" The teacher would suggest kindly," listen to your older brother-Theodore is it?-he is-"

I quickly interjected, getting annoyed by the minute,"-Thank you for thinking so highly of me. But we are twins." I gave her the evil eye, though I tried to keep a cool face.

I knew that Percy and I would get annoyed whenever a teacher would think that we were not twins. I mean, we looked alike. Both raven black hair and tanned skin, but just because my eyes were ocean blue, and his sea green, doesn't mean that we looked different.

"Sorry, but you're so mature and Percy-"She stammered, clearly embarrassed.

"Come on Percy, let's go." And with that, I dragged my twin brother but not before I flicked her "the bird."

Eventually I managed to convince him that the teacher was right about the man not being a "monster", but I could tell by the way he looked back at the playground that he wasn't so certain. Sighing, I slung my arm around his neck and assured him as best as I could.

"I'm your brother. You should know that I wouldn't lie to you."

He gazed at me with scrutiny that I wasn't even sure a nine year old could have. His green eyes seemingly inspecting my lie. He still seamed quite tense. He stopped looking and smiled. The conversation was dropped.

* * *

Years passed and teachers still managed to confuse who was who, and eventually, our days usually consisted of this:

"Theodore! Sit DOWN!"

"I'm Percy mam."

"Oh, sorry Theodore. Percy! Sit DOWN!"

It didn't help that Percy and I would get into separate fights with other schoolmates in different schools. Like in Fourth grade, I had a fight with Jonson about ripping my homework and throwing my lunch, while the other day Percy got into a fight with Smith about our mom. Eventually the teacher couldn't tell who beat the other student up and soon, whenever a fight started (which was daily), they would find a way to put us in detention together.

And with two ADHD and Dyslexic students, it was torture.

We were ending 5th grade now and once again, Percy and I was chucked out of the school. I didn't bother remembering the name; instead I started to look forward to one school in particular.

A few months passed and Sally finally found us a school to attend. Yancy Academy for troubled kids.

For troubled Kids.

I didn't mind, and I even tried to get out of trouble the first term. The routine "check-up" by the principal was finished, with the principal looking up and down from the file folders in our past schooling. He kept looking at us, back and forth, probably trying to confirm whatever was written on the folder. Finally, after he was done explaining the rules of the school-("You should not…Blah…Blah…Blah….Are you two even listening?!")

We were finally introduced to our class.

"Class this is Percy and Theodore Jackson. I expect you to treat them fairly and all that-"The homeroom teacher drawled. I stifled back a yawn as I stood on the front row.

"Is there a problem Percy?" He asked, looking at me as I looked at the class with a bored face.

Annoyed, I snapped back," Yes sir, that problem is you not being able to distinguish me and my brother. Say can you even distinguish an apple from a ruler?"

The teacher looked shock. I turned around at Percy, he too was shocked. Usually it was him who would get in trouble for the first day, and then I would do my comedian stunt the next day. Percy sent a mental message into my brain, well not necessarily my brain, but you get the idea.

_Don't get into trouble._

I snorted as the teacher's face purpled with rage. _In this new school were attitude gets you in trouble, well I'm determined to help you get a good rep. Perce._

"Say sir, what's your name again?" I asked innocently. If I was going to end up suffering for the rest of six grade, I have to make sure I get a _good_ first impression from the class.

"DETENTION!"

"Hi Mr. Detention. Say-"I slung a lazy arm around his shoulder. The same thing I do whenever I got had to go to a new school. "-you think that I could be a comedian when I grow up?"

"Not in this place Mr. Jackson." The teacher growled, his glasses were shaking and his face was red.

"NOW GET OUT OF MY ROOM!"

I ignored his shouting and saluted instead. Snickers rose from the class which quickly turned to laughter. I jabbed Percy on the side, whispering, "Save me a seat okay?"

He nodded, his mouth twitching to form a smile.

"Well it was nice meeting you sir-goodbye!" I yelled as I ran into the hall, laughing as I did so towards the detention room.

The students then roared in laughter, before it too faded away.

First quarter was torture for both of us. Apparently the teacher that _I_ made _fun_ of was _also our Music_ teacher, our _History_ teacher and our _Math_ teacher, all on the same days. Percy glared at me the moment we found out, and the only thing I could think of to say was: "Opps."

It _also_ turned out that Music, Pre-Algebra and History was our first three periods, earning me a stern glare whenever any of us started to speak or rather sleep.

Apparently, the Music and Pre-Algebra teachers had Chicken Pox the other day, earning us a full one hour and forty-five minute "fun time" with Teacher Grumps.

I groaned as I clutched my head, music notes dancing taunt fully across my paper. I looked at my right and saw Percy groaning as well. I placed my head down as soon as the teacher started speaking.

I clutched my papers.

First semester was going to be a bore.

* * *

There were good news and bad news.

The first good news was that Grover became close friends with Percy.

The second good news was that the Latin teacher got replaced by Mr. Brunner.

The bad news:

So did the Pre-algebra teacher.

It was second semester and "Mrs. Dodds" stepped into our room, looking around menacingly. Grover, who was at my left looked increasingly pale, I understood why. The back of my neck stood up, my muscles tensed and I knew that Mrs. Dodds wasn't any normal Pre-Algebra teacher, no she was a-

Kindly One.

My eyes were wide, am I was sure I've gone pale cause the next thing I knew, Percy was shoving me lightly, asking me if I was alright.

I blinked, trying to give Percy an excuse as to why I look as pale as a clean sheet. After a full minute of silence the best my ADHD brain could do was:

"I'm fine, Percy. Just a bit nervous-say do you think that jacket of her's would fit me?" I asked in a joking tone, soon enough, all the worry left Percy's face and nodded, doing a once over of the teacher and grinned.

"Not at all."

The rest of the class, I was taking down notes diligently and with wide eyes. It must have been weird, seeing how I barely paid attention to the rest of the class, but soon enough, their mortal minds soon forgotten whatever that was worrying me and continued listening.

When Pre-Algebra was done, I continued to eye her warily at the corner of my eye. The classroom was empty aside from Mrs. Dodds, Grover and a kid sleeping heavily on the corner. I tensed.

_If_ _"Mrs. Dodds" attacked us now, well-I don't like our chances. _

Grover seemed to sense what I was feeling because Grover laughed nervously.

"It's okay Theodore, just don't- don't do anything stupid."

I blinked, quite surprised. I'd forgotten about Grover's link did not only apply to Percy, but to me as well.

"W-what?"

"Don't do anything stupid." Grover repeated again once more.

Silence.

"She's not human right?" I asked, quietly, my hand fishing a pencil from my book bag and started twirling it between my fingers.

Grover's eyes widened. His eyes darting back and forth to make an excuse.

A lie.

"Of course she's human-"

"No she's not," I continued to spin the pencil faster, and faster until it was a threatening blur. Grover seemed to eye the pencil point warily.

Silence. Then footsteps. I looked at the corner of my eye. She was walking this way. Grover tensed. I tensed as well, deciding to test my very dangerous theory.

The hair on my back rose and then-

"I mean seriously! What kind of woman wears a Bike Jacket like that, I mean she looks mean enough to ride a Harley!" I exclaimed, a smile on my face. The switch of moods clearly surprised Grover as his nose twitched.

Grover looked like he was going to faint before laughing nervously, "Yeah, nice joke Theo, you almost got me there." He continued to laugh/bleat nervously.

I turned around, the feeling of being watched, filling me once more. But as I turned around, Mrs. Dodds was still sitting behind the desk, filing student files and checking answers. My eyes narrowed.

_Just like I thought…_

Kids started going back into the room. Nancy continued to chuck her uneaten sandwich at Grover from behind me. Percy continued to defend Grover from the "attacks." Everything is normal, everyone is normal.

But not _everyone._ My gaze flickered to Mrs. Dodds.

_It was a Kindly One…_

* * *

**A/N: Here you go. Still accepting suggestions. Peace!**


	4. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer- I don't own Perce**

**Chapter 3**

Life was being a bitch.

Or maybe it wasn't, either way time passed by quickly and soon enough I found myself and Grover being pelted by Little Ms. Bobafit with her uneaten peanut-butter sandwich. It was May and Percy and I recently turned twelve a few months ago, it was fun, we had a bunk bed party and got night detention as a result.

Anyway, today was the day we were going to a field trip to Manhattan with-twenty-eight mental-case kids and two teachers on a yellow school bus, heading to the Metropolitan Museum of Art to look at ancient Greek and Roman stuff.

It sounded like torture, then again it _was_ always torture.

Not that I disliked Museums, so far nothing painfully excruciating happened to either of us in a Museum before, so I thought I could give it a shot. The same couldn't be said for my classmates, but I had to give myself a breather every few minutes. I was a _bit-calmer _than my twin brother in terms of patience, but every now and then the earth would rumble slightly and the water in their clear water bottles would shake threateningly when I was pissed off. As I sat on the yellow school bus with twenty-eight mental-case kids in tow, I was about to loose all hope on humanity when I remembered that Mr. Brunner, our Latin teacher, was leading this trip, so I had hopes... and fears.

It turns out that wasn't the only one who wanted to come, it turns out that Mrs. Dodds was tagging along too. The hair on the back of my neck rose as Mrs. Dodds sat near Mr. Brunner and in turn, near to me.

Mr. Brunner was in his motorized wheelchair today. His thinning hair and a scruffy beard lightened into something similar to ashen grey, I knew that his hair would change whenever he had to check test papers at night. Today he was wearing his trademark frayed tweed jacket, which always smelled like coffee. You wouldn't think he'd be cool, but he told stories and jokes and let us play games in class, _war_ games that is. He also had this awesome collection of _real_ Roman armor and imperial gold weapons, so he was the only teacher whose class didn't put me and Percy to sleep, not that I would want to.

I hoped the trip would be okay. At least, I hoped that for once I wouldn't get in trouble.

Boy, was I wrong.

See, bad things happen to me on field trips. Like at our fifth-grade school, when we went to the Saratoga battlefield, we had this accident with a Revolutionary War cannon. I was sure Percy wasn't aiming for the school bus, and I wasn't trying to set it on fire but of course we got expelled anyway. And before that, at my fourth-grade school, when we took a behind the-scenes tour of the Marine World shark pool, Percy sort of hit the wrong lever on the catwalk and our class took an unplanned swim. And the time before that... Well, you get the idea.

This trip, we were determined to be good.

All the way into the city, I put up with Nancy Bobofit, the freckly, redheaded kleptomaniac girl, hitting my brother's best friend Grover in the back of the head with chunks of peanut butter-and-ketchup sandwich.

I could have chose to help him, but I didn't and instead I chose to look at the aisle of the bus, trying to look as bored as possible to divert attention. Call me _self conservative,_ but after a few months in Yancy Academy taught me one thing:

_Loyalty_ wasn't exactly my strong point.

Grover was an easy target. He was scrawny. He cried when he got frustrated. He must've been held back several grades trying to find us, because he was the only sixth grader with acne and the start of a wispy beard on his chin. On top of all that, he was crippled. He had a note excusing him from PE for the rest of his life because he had some kind of muscular disease in his legs. He walked funny, like every step hurt him, but don't let that fool you, I knew that he was no ordinary paralytic-teenage-kid, no he was a _satyr._

But other than that he was just as normal as us. I've always assumed that because they were magical creatures that he would have sort of tolerance for this kind of things, but apparently that wasn't the case for Grover. It didn't help that I wasn't exactly completely loyal to Grover. I knew I was being unfair and insensitive to the young Satyr, considering what he was going to do later on, but he was quite wimpy. Sometimes my wavering loyalty would get me and others in trouble, making enemies with Nancy Bobafit rather quickly.

I knew the risks and dangers of a wavering loyalty, even more so at this _time _and _age._ But I also knew the nice things of a wavering loyalty, well if you consider it _nice. _I am _quite_ understanding, I can't exactly trust him considering the big mistakes he made in the past.

And boy were those mistakes big, Big Three BIG.

So yeah, I guess you can understand hesitance, but there was something else I found out rather quickly.

One time, when I was trying to escape class, I got into a fight with the leader of a gang of some sort in school. I didn't pay attention to him that much and even formed a temporary alliance.

Temporary because after a few _convincing_ words from another group, I revealed to them the leader of the other gang and got into bad terms with them since. I was hesitant and stubborn with keeping it a secret, but nevertheless my loyalty wavered, and that is a _bad thing_ to have as well. The point is that I knew that my wavering loyalty was bad, even more so considering my parentage associated with the sea, and I had a bit more "_seaish" _personality and thus, my loyalty would waver.

Knowing what the future held, I wasn't exactly all that welcoming with my _now realized flaw. _I knew that if I didn't want Percy to die, or my family in general, I had to strengthen my willpower, since a Child Of a Big Three would often be a powerful ally.

Anyway, Nancy Bobofit was throwing wads of her sandwich that stuck in Grover's curly brown hair, and she knew we couldn't do anything back to her because Percy and I were already on probation. The headmaster had threatened us with death by in-school suspension if anything bad, embarrassing, or even mildly entertaining happened on this trip, specifically Percy.

"I'm going to kill her," I heard Percy behind me mumbled.

Grover tried to calm him down. "It's okay. I like peanut butter."

Grover dodged another piece of Nancy's lunch and it hit me instead, I glared daggers at Nancy.

"That's it." I started to get up, but Grover pulled me back to my seat.

"You're already on probation," he reminded me. "You know who'll get blamed if anything happens."

Looking back on it, I wish I'd decked Nancy Bobofit right then and there. In-school suspension would've

been nothing compared to the mess I was about to get myself into.

Mr. Brunner led the museum tour.

He rode up front in his wheelchair, guiding us through the big echoey galleries, past marble statues and glass cases full of really old black-and-orange pottery.

It blew my mind that this stuff had survived for two thousand, three thousand years.

He gathered us around a thirteen-foot-tall stone column with a big sphinx on the top, and started telling us how it was a grave marker, a _steele,_ for a girl about our age. He told us about the carvings on the sides. I was trying to listen to what he had to say, because it was interesting, but everybody around me was talking, and every time Percy and I told them to shut up, the other teacher chaperone, Mrs. Dodds, would give me the evil eye.

Mrs. Dodds was this little math teacher from "Georgia" who always wore a black leather jacket, even though she was fifty years old. She looked mean enough to ride a Harley right into your locker. She had come to Yancy halfway through the year, when our last math teacher had a nervous breakdown.

From her first day, Mrs. Dodds loved Nancy Bobofit and figured we were the devil spawn (an ironic statement). She would point her crooked finger at me and say, "Now, honey," real sweet, and I knew Percy and I were going to get after-school detention for a month.

That wasn't the only thing I knew. Like Grover she wasn't just some ordinary _Harley-riding-math-teacher_, she was a creature like Grover, but not exactly like Grover either. She was a Kindly One.

One time, after she'd made Percy and I erase answers out of old math workbooks until midnight, I heard Percy tell Grover that he didn't think Mrs. Dodds was human. He looked at Percy from the corner of my eye, real serious, and said, "You're absolutely right."

I nodded absentmindedly.

_Even with Percy's obliviousness, he was a keen observer. Huh._

Mr. Brunner kept talking about Greek funeral art.

Finally, Nancy Bobofit snickered something about the naked guy on the stele, and Percy turned around and said, "Will you shut up?"

Apparently it came out louder than he meant it to.

The whole group laughed. Mr. Brunner stopped his story.

"Mr. Jackson," he said, "did you have a comment?"

I looked around and saw that Percy's face was totally red. He said, "No, sir."

Mr. Brunner pointed to one of the pictures on the stele. "Perhaps you'll tell us what this picture represents?"

I looked at the carving, then at Percy's face. Obvious relief settled on his face and I knew that he recognized it as well.

Percy cleared his throat. "That's Kronos eating his kids, right?"

"Yes," Mr. Brunner said, obviously not satisfied. "And he did this because ..."

"Well..." A pause. "Kronos was the king god, and-""God?" Mr. Brunner asked.

"Titan," He corrected himself. "And ... he didn't trust his kids, who were the gods. So, um, Kronos ate them, right? But his wife hid baby Zeus, and gave Kronos a rock to eat instead. And later, when Zeus grew up, he tricked his dad, Kronos, into barfing up his brothers and sisters-"

"Eeew!" said one of the girls behind me.

"-and so there was this big fight between the gods and the Titans," Percy continued, "and the gods won."

Some snickers from the group.

Behind me, Nancy Bobofit mumbled to a friend, "Like we're going to use this in real life. Like it's going to say on our job applications, 'Please explain why Kronos ate his kids.'"

"And why, Mr. Jackson," Brunner said, "to paraphrase Miss Bobofit's excellent question, does this matter in real life?"

"Busted," Grover muttered.

"Shut up," Nancy hissed, her face even brighter red than her hair.

At least Nancy got packed, too. Mr. Brunner was the only one who ever caught her saying anything wrong. He had radar ears, which I thought was awesome.

I thought about his question, and shrugged. "I don't know, sir."

"I see." Mr. Brunner looked disappointed, he then directed his question to me. I simply shook my head. He sighed."Well, half credit, Mr. Jackson. Zeus did indeed feed Kronos a mixture of mustard and wine, which made him disgorge his other five children, who, of course, being immortal gods, had been living and growing up completely undigested in the Titan's stomach. The gods defeated their father, sliced him to pieces with his own scythe, and scattered his remains in Tartarus, the darkest part of the Underworld. On that happy note, it's time for lunch. Mrs. Dodds, would you lead us back outside?"

The class drifted off, the girls holding their stomachs, the guys pushing each other around and acting like doofuses.

Grover and I were about to follow when Mr. Brunner said, "Mr. Jackson."

I knew that was coming so I continued to walk towards the area where we were about to get our lunch when Mr. Brunner said.

"You too Theodore."

I froze, I wasn't expecting this. Reluctantly, I told Grover to keep going. Then I turned towards Mr. Brunner. "Sir?"

Mr. Brunner had this look that wouldn't let you go-intense brown eyes that could've been a thousand years old and had seen everything. And ironically he was.

"You must learn the answer to my question," Mr. Brunner told him.

"About the Titans?"

"About real life. And how your studies apply to it."

"Oh."

"What you learn from me," he said, "is vitally important. I expect you to treat it as such. I will accept only the best from you, Percy Jackson, you too Theodore Jackson."

I just stood there on the corner awkwardly. I wasn't the one who answered the question so I waited patiently. My ADHD mind finding ways to entertain myself with my thoughts, and this time it chose Percy as the subject.

I looked at Percy with sympathy.

I mean, sure, it was kind of cool on tournament days, when he dressed up in a suit of Roman armor and shouted: "What ho!'" and challenged us, sword-point against chalk, to run to the board and name every Greek and Roman person who had ever lived, and their mother, and what god they worshiped. But Mr. Brunner expected Percy and I to be as good as everybody else, despite the fact that we both have dyslexia and attention deficit disorder and we had never made above a C-in my life. No, he didn't expect us to be as good; he expected us to be better.

While I was hanging on, (just barely) Percy was drowning in a big pile of expectations and I couldn't really help him float on his own. I frowned. Having a wavering loyalty doesn't change the fact that I still do have loyalties tied to some people. Some much stronger a bond than others, but sometimes (most of the times) I feel guilt and the need to help my family, especially Percy.

I heard Percy mumble something about trying harder, while Mr. Brunner took one long sad look at the stele, like he'd been at this girl's funeral. Considering who he was, he might have been.

He told Percy to go outside and eat his lunch.

I was about to follow Percy outside when Mr. Brunner said, "Mr. Jackson."

I turned around to face him and noticed that his attention was directed to the Stela. After a few more minutes of staring at the Stele, Mr. Brunner turned to look at me, his face very hard to read.

"Theo, be-be careful with who you meet in the near future. I expect alot from both of you in the future. And I expect you that you will keep a close eye on your brother."

My eyes widened in surprise. Before I could ask what he meant he left, leaving me in an almost deserted Museum.


	5. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer- I don't own anything except my oc's.**

**Chapter 4**

I stood there for a while, surrounded by art of every kind as "Mr. Brunner's" "advise" echoed through my head.

_I expect a lot of great things from you...keep an eye on your brother..._

I frowned and started walking, stopping just next to the door of the museum.

_Did he...Can it be?_

I shook my head once more and took a step outside.

_Must be my paranoia._

The class had gathered on the front steps of the museum, where we could watch the foot traffic along Fifth Avenue.

Overhead, a huge storm was brewing, with clouds blacker than I'd ever seen over the city. If I was a _normal_ _human being _I would have figured that maybe it was global warming or something, because the weather all across New York state had been weird since Christmas. We'd had massive snow storms, flooding, wildfires from lightning strikes. I wouldn't have been surprised if this was a hurricane blowing in.

Or an angry god.

But as usual, nobody else seemed to notice. Some of the guys were pelting pigeons with Lunchables crackers. Nancy Bobofit was trying to pickpocket something from a lady's purse, and, of course, Mrs. Dodds wasn't seeing a thing.

I spotted Grover and Percy sitting on the edge of the fountain, away from the others. We thought that maybe if we did that, everybody wouldn't know we were from that school-the school for loser freaks who couldn't make it elsewhere.

"Detention?" Grover asked.

"Nah," I said. " Just forgot something, how about Percy?"

Grover didn't say anything for a while. Then, when I thought he was going to give me some deep philosophical comment to make me feel better, he said, "Can I have your apple? Percy already gave his so-"

"Sure." I didn't have much of an appetite, so I let him take it.

I watched the stream of cabs going down Fifth Avenue, and thought about our mom's apartment, only a little ways uptown from where we sat. I hadn't seen her since Christmas. After years of living with her and growing up again, all I wanted so bad to jump in a taxi and head home. She'd hug me and be glad to see me, but she'd be disappointed, too. She'd send me right back to Yancy, remind me that I had to try harder, even if this was my sixth school in six years and Percy and I was probably going to be kicked out again. I wouldn't be able to stand that sad look she'd give us.

Mr. Brunner parked his wheelchair at the base of the handicapped ramp. He ate celery while he read a paperback novel. A red umbrella stuck up from the back of his chair, making it look like a motorized cafe table. I was about to unwrap my sandwich when Nancy Bobofit appeared in front of me with her ugly friends-I guess she'd gotten tired of stealing from the tourists-and dumped her half-eaten lunch on Grover's lap.

"Oops." She grinned at Percy and I with her crooked teeth. Her freckles were orange, as if somebody had spray-painted her face with liquid Cheetos. I glanced at Percy and I could tell that he was having trouble controlling his temper when suddenly my mind went blank. A wave roared in my ears.

I don't remember Percy touching her, but the next thing I knew, Nancy was sitting on her butt in the fountain, screaming, "Percy pushed me!"

Mrs. Dodds materialized next to us.

Some of the kids were whispering: "Did you see-"

"-the water-"

"-like it grabbed her-"

I knew what they were talking about. And I also knew that we were in trouble again, and not just any kind of trouble-

As soon as Mrs. Dodds was sure poor little Nancy was okay, promising to get her a new shirt at the museum gift shop, etc., etc., Mrs. Dodds turned to Percy and then to me. The back of neck stood and a little voice in my head told me to _Run! Run! Run! _There was a triumphant fire in her eyes, as if we'd done something she'd been waiting for all semester.

"Now, honey-"

"I know," Percy grumbled. "A month erasing workbooks."

That wasn't the right thing to say.

"Come with me," Mrs. Dodds said.

"Wait!" Grover yelped. "It was me. I pushed her."

_-Monster Trouble..._

Percy stared at him, stunned while I just sat there quietly. I knew what was happening. Mrs. Dodds scared Grover to death and I knew why.

"I don't think so, Mr. Underwood," she said.

"But-"

"You-will-stay-here."

Grover looked at Percy desperately.

"It's okay, man," He told him. "Thanks for trying."

"Honey," Mrs. Dodds turned and barked at me. "Now."

Nancy Bobofit smirked.

Percy gave her his deluxe I'll-kill-you-later stare . Then he turned to face Mrs. Dodds, but she wasn't there. She was standing at the museum entrance, way at the top of the steps, gesturing impatiently at both of us to come on.

My skin paled quickly. I looked at Percy's face and a puzzled look could be seen on his face. He was probably asking one thing.

_How'd she get there so fast?_

I saw Percy going after Mrs. Dodds. I took one more look at the scene behind me and sighed.

_Normal life say bye-bye, and Half-blood life here we come._

I went after Mrs. Dodds.

Halfway up the steps, I glanced back at Grover. He was looking pale, cutting his eyes between me and Mr. Brunner, like he wanted Mr. Brunner to notice what was going on, but Mr. Brunner was absorbed in his novel. I looked back up. Mrs. Dodds had disappeared again, not surprising. She was now inside the building, at the end of the entrance hall.

I followed her deeper into the museum. When I finally caught up to her, we were back in the Greek and Roman section.

Except for us, the gallery was empty.

Mrs. Dodds stood with her arms crossed in front of a big marble frieze of the Greek gods. She was making this weird noise in her throat, like growling.

Even without the noise, I would've been nervous. It's weird being alone with a teacher/monster, especially Mrs. Dodds. Something about the way she looked at the frieze, as if she wanted to pulverize it...and she probably would.

"You've been giving us problems, honey," she said, eyes flickering back and forth, each second seemed to last longer. The hair on the back of my neck went on a frenzy that it felt as if it was trying to escape from my skin.

I heard Percy reply, "Yes, ma'am."

She tugged on the cuffs of her leather jacket. "Did you really think you would get away with it?"

The look in her eyes was beyond mad. It was evil. I took a step back.

_She's a teacher_, I thought nervously. _A psychopathic monster disguised as a teacher sent by our Uncle... yeah everything's fine._

Percy continued, "I'll-I'll try harder, ma'am."

Thunder shook the building.

"We are not fools, Percy Jackson," Mrs. Dodds said. "It was only a matter of time before we found you and your brother out. Confess, and both of you will suffer less pain."

Percy looked like he didn't know what she was talking about. Unfortunately, _I knew _what she was talking about.

Fear built up inside of me like and overflowing dam and all I could think of was that Mrs. Dodds would probably whip us back to Hades if we don't _"confess" _unfortunately I had to act like an oblivious half-blood or we would die.

Literally.

"Well?" she demanded.

"Ma'am, I don't..."

"Your time is up," she hissed.

Then the scariest thing happened. Her eyes began to glow like barbecue coals. Her fingers stretched, turning into talons. Her jacket melted into large, leathery wings. She wasn't human. She was a shriveled hag with bat wings and claws and a mouth full of yellow fangs, and she was about to slice me to ribbons.

Then things got even stranger.

Mr. Brunner, who'd been out in front of the museum a minute before, wheeled his chair into the doorway of the gallery, holding a pen in his hand.

"What ho, Percy! Theodore!" he shouted, and tossed the pen and a small round gold object through the air.

A coin.

Mrs. Dodds lunged at both of us.

With a yelp, I dodged and felt talons slash the air next to my leg, I was farther from her, which only meant that Percy was farther from me _too._ I snatched the coin out of the air and in the corner of my eye, almost simultaneous, Percy did the same. I stretched my hand out but when it hit my hand, it wasn't a coin anymore. It was a bow and arrow. Mr. Brunner's set, which he always used on every other tournament days.

Mrs. Dodds spun towards Percy with a murderous look in her eyes.

My knees were jelly. My hands were shaking so bad I almost dropped the Bow, during that time, my hand instinctively went into a draw position.

She snarled, "Die, honey!"

And she flew straight at Percy.

Absolute terror ran through my body. I did the only thing that came naturally: I aimed and let it go.

And at the same time, Percy's sword metal blade hit her shoulder and passed clean through her body as if she were made of water.

_Hisss!_

Mrs. Dodds was a sand castle in a power fan. She exploded into yellow powder, vaporized on the spot, leaving nothing but the smell of sulfur and a dying screech and a chill of evil in the air, as if those two glowing red eyes were still watching me.

We were alone.

There was a coin in my hand. Mr. Brunner wasn't there. Nobody was there but me and my brother. My hands were still trembling. My lunch must've thought that now a great time to go back up cause I felt sick.

_Had I imagined the whole thing?_

I swallowed the urge to throw up.

_No, I did not._

I went back outside.

It had started to rain.

Grover was sitting by the fountain, a museum map tented over his head. Nancy Bobofit was still standing there, soaked from her swim in the fountain, grumbling to her ugly friends. When she saw Percy and I, she said, "I hope Mrs. Kerr whipped your butt."

I said, "Who?"

"Our teacher. Duh!"

Percy blinked. We had no teacher named Mrs. Kerr, but I prepared myself for this part and blinked as well. I then asked Nancy what she was talking about. She just rolled her eyes and turned away.

After that situation I asked Grover where Mrs. Dodds was.

He said, "Who?"

But he paused first, and he wouldn't look at me, so I thought he was messing with me, and I had a feeling Percy thought so as well.

"Not funny, man," Percy told him. "This is serious."

Thunder boomed overhead.

I saw Mr. Brunner sitting under his red umbrella, read-ing his book, as if he'd never moved.

Percy and I went over to him.

He looked up, a little distracted. "Ah, that would be my pen and antique coin. Please bring your own writing utensil in the future, Mr. Jackson, and do keep you hands from picking up personal property Mr. Jackson."

Percy and I handed Mr. Brunner his respective things. I hadn't even realized I was still holding on to it. By Percy's surprised looks I could tell he was too.

"Sir," Percy said, "where's Mrs. Dodds?"

He stared at us blankly. "Who?"

"The other chaperon. Mrs. Dodds. The pre-algebra teacher." I continued, quite irritated and impressed by his lying skills.

He frowned and sat forward, looking mildly concerned. "Percy, there is no Mrs. Dodds on this trip. As far as I know, there has never been a Mrs. Dodds at Yancy Academy. Are you feeling all right?"

For a moment, I would have thought that there _was _no _Mrs._ _Dodds,_ and that _it was_ all a _dream._ But if it wasn't for my book knowledge, I would have thought that he was right and I developed some weird mental disease.


	6. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

I was used to the occasional weird experience, but usually they were over quickly. Thank goodness that I knew about the Mist before Percy or else I would have been driven mad. This twenty four/seven life threatening hallucination was more than I could handle.

Percy himself was convinced that:

_For the rest of the school year, the entire campus seemed to be playing some kind of trick on us._

The students acted as if they were completely and totally convinced that Mrs. Kerr-a perky blond woman whom I'd never seen in my life until she got on our bus at the end of the field trip-had been our pre-algebra teacher since Christmas.

Every so often Percy would spring a Mrs. Dodds reference on somebody, just to see if he could trip them up, but they would stare at us like we were psychos.

It got so I almost believed them-Mrs. Dodds had never existed.

Almost.

But Grover couldn't fool me. So did the Mist.

Every now and then a small prodding feeling would prod my head and then it was gone.

So when Percy mentioned the name _Dodds_ to him, Grover would hesitate, then claim she didn't exist. But I knew he was lying. Something was going on. Something had happened at the museum.

And that something was going to end our "normal life" at Yancy Academy soon.

I didn't have much time to think about it during the days, but at night, visions of Mrs. Dodds with talons and leathery wings would wake me up in a cold sweat. And if it got _really_ intense, Percy and I would wake up at the same time while Grover would just bleat nervously.

The freak weather continued, which didn't help my mood. One night, a thunderstorm blew out the windows in my dorm room. A few days later, the biggest tornado ever spotted in the Hudson Valley touched down only fifty miles from Yancy Academy. One of the current events we studied in social studies class was the unusual number of small planes that had gone down in sudden squalls in the Atlantic that year.

Percy started feeling cranky and irritable most of the time, unfortunately so was I. Percy's grades slipped from Ds to Fs, while I barely cling-ed to an E. We got into more fights with Nancy Bobofit and her friends. We was sent out into the hallway in almost every class.

Finally, when our English teacher, Mr. Nicoll, asked Percy and I for the millionth time why we were too lazy to study for spelling tests, Percy and I snapped. Percy called him an old sot while I threw my broken pencil right at his nose. He shouted in a lot of languages. I wasn't even sure what it meant, but it didn't sound good.

The headmaster sent our mom a letter the following week, making it official: I would not be invited back next year to Yancy Academy.

Fine, I told myself. Just fine.

I was homesick.

I wanted to be with our surrogate mom in our little apartment on the Upper East Side, even if I had to go to public school and put up with my obnoxious stepfather and his stupid poker parties.

And yet... there were things I'd miss at Yancy. The view of the woods out my dorm window, the Hudson River in the distance, the smell of pine trees. I'd miss Grover, who'd been a good friend of my brother's, even if he was a little strange. I didn't worry with how he'd survive next year since I knew what was going to happen to him.

I'd miss Latin class, too-Mr. Brunner's crazy tournament days and his faith that we could do well.

As exam week got closer, Latin was the only test I studied for. I hadn't forgotten what Mr. Brunner had told me about this subject being life-and-death for me. I knew why, which was why I'd started to believe him.

The evening before our finals, Percy got so frustrated he threw the Cambridge Guide to Greek Mythology across my dorm room. To be honest, I was getting frustrated too. Words had started swimming off the page, circling my head, the letters doing one eighties as if they were riding skateboards. There was no way I was going to remember the difference between Nyx and Styx, or Polydictes and Polydeuces. And conjugating those Latin verbs? Forget it.

Percy paced the room, looking like ants were crawling around inside his shirt. I wasn't faring too well either. I was frowning and I hated the large headache that I was having.

I remembered Mr. Brunner's serious expression, his thousand-year-old eyes.

_I will accept only the best from you, Percy and Theo Jackson._

I took a deep breath. I picked up the mythology book. I'd never asked a teacher for help before except in my old life. Maybe if I talked to Mr. Brunner, he could give me some pointers.

Apparently Percy had the same line of thought because he took his book and exited our room.

I walked downstairs to the faculty offices. Most of them were dark and empty, but Mr. Brunner's door was ajar, light from his window stretching across the hallway floor. I was three steps from the door handle when I heard voices inside the office. Mr. Brunner asked a question. A voice that was definitely Grover's said "... worried about Percy and Theodore, sir."

I froze.

I'm not usually an eavesdropper, but I dare you to try not listening if you hear your brother's-best-friend-but-secretly-a-saytr talking about you to an adult.

Percy inched closer.

"... alone this summer," Grover was saying. "I mean, a _Kindly One_ in the school! Now that we know for sure, and they know too-"

"We would only make matters worse by rushing him," Mr. Brunner said. "We need both boys to mature more."

"But they may not have time. The summer solstice dead-line- "

"Will have to be resolved without them, Grover. Let them enjoy their ignorance while they still can."

"Sir, they saw her... ."

"Their imagination," Mr. Brunner insisted. "The Mist over the students and staff will be enough to convince them of that."

I looked at Percy. I almost snickered, if not for the life-changing situation we were in.

In all my second life I've never seen Percy so quiet.

I inched closer.

"Sir, I ... I can't fail in my duties again." Grover's voice was choked with emotion. "You know what that would mean."

"You haven't failed, Grover," Mr. Brunner said kindly. "I should have seen her for what she was. Now let's just worry about keeping Percy alive until next fall-"

The mythology book out of Percy's hands dropped, and suddenly I stuck out of my hand to intercept it, but it was too late. It hit the floor with a thud.

Mr. Brunner went silent.

My heart hammering, I picked up the book and backed down the hall.

A shadow slid across the lighted glass of Brunner's office door, the shadow of something much taller than our wheelchair-bound teacher, holding something that looked suspiciously like an archer's bow.

I opened the nearest door and pulled Percy with me and slipped inside.

A few seconds later I heard a slow clop-clop-clop, like muffled wood blocks, then a sound like an animal snuffling right outside my door. A large, dark shape paused in front of the glass, then moved on.

A bead of sweat trickled down my neck.

Somewhere in the hallway, Mr. Brunner spoke. "Nothing," he murmured. "My nerves haven't been right since the winter solstice."

"Mine neither," Grover said. "But I could have sworn ..."

"Go back to the dorm," Mr. Brunner told him. "You've got a long day of exams tomorrow."

"Don't remind me."

The lights went out in Mr. Brunner's office.

We waited in the dark for what seemed like forever. Finally, Percy and I slipped out into the hallway and made our way back up to the dorm.

Grover was lying on his bed, studying his Latin exam notes like he'd been there all night.

"Hey," he said, bleary-eyed. "You going to be ready for this test?"

We didn't answer.

"You look awful." He frowned. "Is everything okay?"

I hesitated, but answered. "Just... tired."

Percy turned so he couldn't read his expression while I started getting ready for bed.

I knew that Percy didn't understand the conversation we heard downstairs. I wanted to believe I'd imagined the whole thing.

But one thing was clear: Grover and Mr. Brunner were talking about me behind my back. They thought I was in some kind of danger.

The next afternoon, as I was leaving the three-hour Latin exam, my eyes swimming with all the Greek and Roman names I'd misspelled, Mr. Brunner called me back inside. For a moment, I was worried he'd found out about my eavesdropping the night before, but that didn't seem to be the problem. I was quite surprised to see that I wasn't the only one with him.

"Percy," he said. "Don't be discouraged about leaving Yancy. It's ... it's for the best."

His tone was kind, but the words clearly embarrassed Percy and I. Even though he was speaking quietly, the other kids finishing the test could hear. Nancy Bobofit smirked at me and made sarcastic little kissing motions with her lips.

I mumbled, "Okay, sir."

"I mean ..." Mr. Brunner wheeled his chair back and forth, like he wasn't sure what to say. "This isn't the right place for you two. It was only a matter of time."

Percy looked like he was about to cry.

I frowned. Here was my favorite teacher, in front of the class, telling me and my brother that we couldn't handle it. After saying he believed in me all year, now he was telling me and my brother were destined to get kicked out.

"Right," Percy said, trembling.

"No, no," Mr. Brunner said. "Oh, confound it all. What I'm trying to say ... you're not normal, Percy, Theodore. That's nothing to be-"

"Thanks," Percy blurted. "Thanks a lot, sir, for reminding me.

"Percy-"

But Percy was already gone.

With one final wolf-glare-like-glare, I raced after my brother, closing the door shut, much to the old centaur's dismay.

On the last day of the term, I shoved my clothes into my suitcase.

The other guys were joking around, talking about their vacation plans. One of them was going on a hiking trip to Switzerland. Another was cruising the Caribbean for a month. They were juvenile delinquents, like me, but they were _rich_ juvenile delinquents. Their daddies were executives, or ambassadors, or celebrities. I was a nobody, from a family of nobodies.

But I was a special nobody.

They asked me what I'd be doing this summer and I told them I was going back to the city. What I didn't tell them was that we'd have to get a summer job walking dogs or selling magazine subscriptions, and spend my free time worrying about where we'd go to school in the fall.

"Oh," one of the guys said. "That's cool."

They went back to their conversation as if we'd never existed.

The only person I dreaded saying good-bye to was Grover, but as it turned out, I didn't have to. He'd booked a ticket to Manhattan on the same Greyhound as I had, so there we were, together again, heading into the city. To be fair, even though I didn't trust him, that Saytr kinda grew to me, so it wasn't that hard to decide that maybe I should give him a chance.

Just maybe.

During the whole bus ride, Grover kept glancing nervously down the aisle, watching the other passengers. It occurred to me that he'd always acted nervous and fidgety when we left Yancy, as if he expected something bad to happen. Before, I'd always assumed he was worried about getting teased.

But there was nobody to tease him on the Greyhound.

It was obvious that Percy was trying to figure something out when finally Percy couldn't stand it anymore. Percy said,

"Looking for Kindly Ones?"

Grover nearly jumped out of his seat. "Wha-what do you mean?"

Percy confessed about us eavesdropping on him and Mr. Brunner the night before the exam while I just sat near the window, looking bored.

Grover's eye twitched. "How much did you hear?"

"Oh ... not much. What's the summer solstice dead-line?"

He winced. "Look, Percy ... I was just worried for you, see?" I coughed irritably, just to remind him that I was there. Grover's cheeks went red.

"-you too Theo. I mean, hallucinating about demon math teachers ..."

"Grover-"

"And I was telling Mr. Brunner that maybe you were over-stressed or something, because there was no such person as Mrs. Dodds, and ..."

Percy cut him off. "Grover, you're a really, really bad liar."

His ears turned pink.

From his shirt pocket, he fished out a grubby business card. "Just take this, okay? In case you need me this summer."

The card was in fancy script, which was murder on my dyslexic eyes. I didn't bother to read it, cause Percy read it out for me. Written on the card was something like:

Grover Underwood

Keeper

Half-Blood Hill

Long Island, New York

(800) 009-0009

"What's Half-"

"Don't say it aloud!" he yelped. "That's my, um ... summer address."

Percy's expression changed.

"Okay," he said glumly. "So, like, if I want to come visit your mansion."

Grover nodded. "Or ... or if you need me."

"Why would I need you?"

Obviously it came out harsher than he meant it to.

Grover blushed right down to his Adam's apple. "Look, Percy and Theodore, the truth is, I-I kind of have to protect you."

Percy stared at him. I looked at him too.

All year long, Percy (and sometimes me) have gotten in fights, keeping bullies away from him. And here he was acting like he was the one who defended Percy.

"Grover," I said, "what exactly are you protecting me from?"

There was a huge grinding noise under our feet. Black smoke poured from the dashboard and the whole bus filled with a smell like rotten eggs. The driver cursed and limped the Greyhound over to the side of the highway.

After a few minutes clanking around in the engine compartment, the driver announced that we'd all have to get off. Grover and I filed outside with everybody else. We were on a stretch of country road-no place you'd notice if you didn't break down there. On our side of the highway was nothing but maple trees and litter from passing cars. On the other side, across four lanes of asphalt shimmering with afternoon heat, was an old-fashioned fruit stand.

The stuff on sale looked really good: heaping boxes of blood red cherries and apples, walnuts and apricots, jugs of cider in a claw-foot tub full of ice. There were no customers, just three old ladies sitting in rocking chairs in the shade of a maple tree, knitting the biggest pair of socks I'd ever seen.

I mean these socks were the size of sweaters, but they were clearly socks. The lady on the right knitted one of them. The lady on the left knitted the other. The lady in the middle held an enormous basket of electric-blue yarn. All three women looked ancient, with pale faces wrinkled like fruit leather, silver hair tied back in white bandannas, bony arms sticking out of bleached cotton dresses.

The weirdest thing was, they seemed to be looking right at Percy _and_ me.

I looked over at Grover to say something about this and saw that the blood had drained from his face.

His nose was twitching.

"Grover?" Percy said. "Hey, man-"

"Tell me they're not looking at you. They are, aren't they?"

"Yeah. Weird, huh? You think those socks would fit me?" Percy chuckled, though his sea green eyes were slightly pale.

"Not funny, Percy. Not funny at all."

The old lady in the middle took out a huge pair of scissors-gold and silver, long-bladed, like shears. I heard Grover catch his breath.

"We're getting on the bus," he told me. "Come on."

"What?" Percy said. "It's a thousand degrees in there."

"Come on!'" He pried open the door and climbed inside, dragging Percy with him, but I stayed back.

Across the road, the old ladies were still watching me. The middle one cut the yarn, and I swear I could hear that snip across four lanes of traffic, involuntarily I shuddered. Her two friends balled up the electric-blue socks and suddenly, one of them started to walk _towards_ me.

I was frozen. My blood ran cold as she came towards me and plucked another yarn.

A bright red one.

Then she gestured for my hand. Willingly I gave it to her, only for her to tie the thin yarn around my wrist.

"What-"

The bus shuddered, and the engine roared back to life. The passengers cheered. I turned around and they were gone.

_Great, immortal beings._

"Darn right!" yelled the driver. He slapped the bus with his hat. "Everybody back on board!"

Once we got going, I started feeling feverish, as if I'd caught the flu, the red yarn glowed against my skin and I started feeling sick. Grover and Percy didn't look much better. They were shivering and their teeth were chattering.

"Grover?" Percy asked.

"Yeah?"

"What are you not telling me?"

He dabbed his forehead with his shirt sleeve. "Theodore, Percy, what did you see back at the fruit stand?"

"You mean the old ladies? What is it about them, man? They're not like ... Mrs. Dodds, are they?"

His expression was hard to read, but I got the feeling-no _knew_ that the fruit-stand ladies were something much, much worse than Mrs. Dodds.

He said, "Just tell me what you saw."

Percy and I replied. "The middle one took out her scissors, and she cut the yarn."

He closed his eyes and made a gesture with his fingers that might've been crossing himself, but it wasn't. It was something else, something almost-older.

He said, "You saw her snip the cord."

"Yeah. Through the window so?" But even as Percy said it, realization crossed his face and he knew it was a big deal.

"This is not happening," Grover mumbled. He started chewing at his thumb. "I don't want this to be like the last time."

"What last time?" I asked.

"Always sixth grade. They never get past sixth."

"Grover," Percy said, his voice shaky. "What are you talking about?"

"Let me walk you home from the bus station. Promise me."

This seemed like a strange request to me, but I promised he could.

"Is this like a superstition or something?" Percy asked.

No answer.

I started hesitantly,"Grover-that snipping of the yarn. Does that mean somebody is going to die?" But I knew the answer, the red string glowed briefly.

He looked at us mournfully, like he was already picking the kind of flowers we'd like best on our coffins.


	7. Chapter 6

Confession time: I ditched Grover as soon as we got to the bus terminal.

I know, I know. It was rude. But to be fair, it wasn't actually _my idea_ in the first place. It was evident that Grover was freaking him out, looking at both of us like we were dead men, muttering "Why does this always happen?" and "Why does it always have to he sixth grade?"

Well I had the same feeling, so as soon as Grover's bladder acted up, I wasn't surprised when, as soon as we got off the bus, he made us promise to wait for him, then made a beeline for the restroom. Instead of waiting, Percy got our suitcases with an expression asking "_are you coming?" _slipped outside, and caught the first taxi uptown. "East One-hundred-and-fourth and First," We told the driver.

Sally Jackson is the best person in the world, which just proves my theory that the best people have the rottenest luck. After a few years of accepting this fact, I've grown to being used to saying and referring her as "mom". Anyways her own parents died in a plane crash when she was five, and she was raised by an uncle who didn't care much about her. She wanted to be a novelist, so she spent high school working to save enough money for a college with a good creative-writing program. Then her uncle got cancer, and she had to quit school her senior year to take care of him.

After he died, she was left with no money, no family, and no diploma. The only good break she ever got was meeting our dad. I have only one memory of him, just this sort of warm glow, maybe the barest trace of his smile, which I knew he did. My mom doesn't like to talk about him because it makes her has no pictures.

See, they weren't married.

She told us that he was rich and important, and their relationship was a secret. Then one day, he set sail across the Atlantic on some important journey, and he never came back. Lost at sea, my new mom told us. Not dead. Lost at sea.

She worked odd jobs, took night classes to get her high school diploma, and raised us on her own. She never complained or got mad. Not even once. But I knew that I wasn't an easy kid.

Finally, she married Gabe Ugliano, who was nice the first thirty seconds we knew him, then showed his true colors as a world-class jerk. When Percy was young, he nick-named him Smelly Gabe.

I'm sorry, but it's the truth. The guy reeked like moldy garlic pizza wrapped in gym shorts. Between the three of us, we made our mom's life pretty hard. The way Smelly Gabe treated her, the way he, Percy and I got along ... well, when we came home is a good example.

We walked into our little apartment, hoping my mom would be home from work. Instead, Smelly Gabe was in the living room, playing poker with his buddies. The television blared ESPN. Chips and beer cans were strewn all over the carpet.

Hardly looking up, he said around his cigar, "So, you're home."

"Where's my mom?" Percy asked.

"Working," he said. "You got any cash?"

That was it.

No Welcome back. Good to see you. How has your life been the last six months? Gabe had put on weight. He looked like a tusk-less walrus in thrift-store clothes. He had about three hairs on his head, all combed over his bald scalp, as if that made him handsome or something. He managed the Electronics Mega-Mart in Queens, but he stayed home most of the time. I don't know why he hadn't been fired long before. He just kept on collecting paychecks, spending the money on cigars that made me nauseous, and on beer, of course. Always beer.

Whenever I was home, he expected us to provide his gambling funds. He called that our "guy secret." Meaning, if we told my mom, he would punch my lights out.

"I don't have any cash," I told him.

He raised a greasy eyebrow. Gabe could sniff out money like a bloodhound, which was surprising, since his own smell should've covered up everything else.

"You took a taxi from the bus station," he said. Probably paid with a twenty. Got six, seven bucks in change. Somebody expects to live under this roof, he ought to carry his own weight. Am I right, Eddie?"

Eddie, the super of the apartment building, looked at me with a twinge of sympathy. "Come on, Gabe," he said. "The kids just got here."

"Am I right?" Gabe repeated. Eddie scowled into his bowl of pretzels. The other two guys passed gas in harmony.

"Fine," I said. I dug a wad of 6 dollars out of my pocket and threw the money on the table, keeping a dollar for safekeeping. I always kept the change cause Percy would always give _all _of the change to Gabe.

"I hope you lose."

"Your report cards came, brain boys!" he shouted after me. "I wouldn't act so snooty!"

Percy slammed the door to our room, which really wasn't my room.

During school months, it was Gabe's "study." He didn't study anything in there except old car magazines, but he loved shoving my stuff in the closet, leaving his muddy boots on my windowsill, and doing his best to make the place smell like his nasty cologne and cigars and stale beer. Percy and I dropped our suitcases on the bed.

Home sweet home.

Gabe's smell was almost worse than the nightmares about Mrs. Dodds, or the sound of that old fruit lady's shears snipping the yarn.

I looked into the hidden cookie jar I hid under the bed, I covered my nose in disgust. The smell was even worse than up there. Eventually I found it and to my surprise, the twenty-one one dollar bill were still there.I grinned and placed the one dollar bill that I salvaged inside the jar.I stopped for a while, remembering what was gonna happen, I took the wad of the now twenty-two dollar bills and placed it in my jacket pockets.

But as soon as I thought that, my legs felt weak. I remembered Grover's look of panic-how he'd made me promise I wouldn't go home without him. A sudden chill rolled through me. I felt like someone, _something_-was looking for me right now, maybe pounding its way up the stairs, growing long, horrible talons.

Then we heard our mom's voice. "Percy? Theo?" She opened the bedroom door, and our fears melted.

My mother can make me feel good just by walking into the room. Her eyes sparkle and change color in the light. Her smile is as warm as a quilt. She's got a few gray streaks mixed in with her long brown hair, but I never think of her as old. When she looks at me, it's like she's seeing all the good things about me, none of the bad. I've never heard her raise her voice or say an unkind word to anyone, not even me or Gabe.

"Oh, Percy." She hugged him tight."I an't believe it. You've grown since Christmas!" Her red-white-and-blue Sweet on America uniform smelled like the best things in the world: chocolate, licorice, and all the other stuff she sold at the candy shop in Grand Central. She'd brought us a huge bag of "free samples," the way she always did when we came home they sat together at the edge of the bed, with me still standing I stood out like a sore thumb.

Sally must've noticed cause she said. "You too Theodore."

I grinned. Theodore was a name that people would often call me as I got a bit older, I didn't like it when people call me that cause it makes me sound cuter than I really was. But right now, being hugged tightly by Sally, I didn't mind it, not one bit.

While I attacked the blueberry and lime-green sour strings, she ran her hand through our hair and demanded to know everything we hadn't put in my letters. She didn't mention anything about my getting expelled. She didn't seem to care about that.

But was I okay? Were her little boys doing all right? We told her that she was smothering us, and to lay off and all that, but secretly, I was really, really glad to see her.

From the other room, Gabe yelled, "Hey, Sally-how about some bean dip, huh?" I gritted my teeth.

Our mom is the nicest lady in the world. She should've been married to a millionaire, not to some jerk like Gabe. For her sake, I tried to sound upbeat about my last days at Yancy Academy. I told her I wasn't too down about the expulsion. I'd lasted almost the whole year this time. I'd made some new friends. I'd done pretty well in Latin. And honestly, the fights hadn't been as bad as the headmaster said.

I liked Yancy Academy. I really did. I put such a good spin on the year, I almost convinced myself. Percy started choking up, thinking about Grover and Mr. Brunner. Even Nancy Bobofit suddenly didn't seem so bad. Until that trip to the museum ...

"What?" my mom asked. Sally must've noticed. Her eyes tugged at our consciences, trying to pull out the secrets. "Did something scare you?"

"No, Mom." Percy replied, though it was obvious that he felt bad lying. I wanted to tell her about Mrs. Dodds and the three old ladies with the yarn, but I thought it would sound stupid and scary, _really_ scary.

I was actually surprised that she didn't see the red string wrapped around my wrist. I didn't know what it meant, but I _had a feeling _that, that "gift" from the Fates equals a short life, my _short_ life. I paled for a bit and glanced at the bright red string. I never tried untying it, and it obviously meant that it was magical, but I didn't want to risk damaging it encase I got a _shorter_ life. As far as I understood, that red _string _was _my life force_.

And that my life was dangling from a string.

Literally.

I paled once more.

She pursed her lips. She knew we were holding back, but she didn't push us.

"I have a surprise for you," she said. "We're going to the beach."

My eyes widened. "Montauk?"

Percy asked hopeful. "Three nights-same cabin?"

"When?"

She smiled. "As soon as I get changed."

I couldn't believe it. My mom, Percy and I hadn't been to Montauk the last two summers, because Gabe said there wasn't enough money. Gabe appeared in the doorway and growled, "Bean dip, Sally? Didn't you hear me?"

Percy looked like he wanted to punch him, but we met our mom's eyes and I understood she was offering me a deal: be nice to Gabe for a little while. Just until she was ready to leave for Montauk. Then we would get out of here.

"I was on my way, honey," she told Gabe. "We were just talking about the trip." Gabe's eyes got small.

"The trip? You mean you were serious about that?"

"I knew it," Percy muttered beside me. "He won't let us go."

"Of course he will," my mom said evenly. "Your step-father is just worried about money. That's all. Besides," she added, "Gabriel won't have to settle for bean dip. I'll make him enough seven-layer dip for the whole weekend. Guacamole. Sour cream. The works."

Gabe softened a bit. "So this money for your trip ... it comes out of your clothes budget, right?"

"Yes, honey," our mother said.

"And you won't take my car anywhere but there and back."

"We'll be very careful."

Gabe scratched his double chin. "Maybe if you hurry with that seven-layer dip ... And maybe if the kids apologizes for interrupting my poker game."

_Maybe if I kick you in your soft spot,_ I thought. _And make you sing soprano for a week._

But my mom's eyes warned me not to make him mad. I knew why. Percy looked absolutely livid, his green eyes churned with dislike. His eyes said it all:

_Why did she put up with this guy? Why did she care what he thought?_

"We're sorry," Percy muttered.

"We're really sorry we interrupted your incredibly important poker game." I continued."Please go back to it right now."

Gabe's eyes narrowed. His tiny brain was probably trying to detect sarcasm in my statement.

"Yeah, whatever," he decided. He went back to his game.

"Thank you, Percy," my mom said. "Once we get to Montauk, we'll talk more about... whatever you've forgot-ten to tell me, okay?" The red string glowed briefly as she finished her sentence.

For a moment, I thought I saw anxiety in her eyes-the same fear I'd seen in Grover during the bus ride-as if my mom too felt an odd chill in the air. But then her smile returned, and I figured I must have been mistaken. She ruffled our hair and went to make Gabe his seven-layer dip. An hour later we were ready to leave. Gabe took a break from his poker game long enough to watch me lug my mom's bags to the car. He kept griping and groaning about losing her cooking-and more importantly, his '78 Camaro-for the whole weekend.

"Not a scratch on this car, brain boy," he warned me as I loaded the last bag. "Not one little scratch."

Like _we'd_ be the one driving. We were _twelve._ But that didn't matter to Gabe.

If a seagull so much as pooped on his paint job, he'd find a way to blame me. Watching him lumber back toward the apartment build-ing, I got so mad I did something I can't explain. As Gabe reached the doorway, Percy and I made the hand gesture I'd seen Grover make on the bus, a sort of warding-off-evil gesture, a clawed hand over my heart, then a shoving movement toward Gabe. The screen door slammed shut so hard it whacked him in the butt and sent him flying up the stair-case as if he'd been shot from a cannon.

Maybe it was just the wind, or some freak accident with the hinges, but I didn't stay long enough to find out. We got in the Camaro and told our mom to step on it.


	8. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: I don't own Percy Jackson only Theodore. **

**Chapter 6**

Our rental cabin was on the south shore, way out at the tip of Long Island. It was a little pastel box with faded curtains, half sunken into the dunes. There was always sand in the sheets and spiders in the cabinets, and most of the time the sea was too cold to swim in.

I loved the place.

We'd been going there since we were babies. Our mom had been going even longer. She never exactly said, but I knew why the beach was special to her. It was the place where she'd met our dad. As we got closer to Montauk, she seemed to grow younger, years of worry and work disappearing from her face. Her eyes turned the color of the sea.

Just like mine.

The ride itself was uneventful, but I knew that something else was gonna be different in the end, I just didn't know what. It was calming to say, the presence of the sea and the calming voice of my new mother and brother.

We got there at sunset, opened all the cabin's windows, and went through our usual cleaning routine. We walked on the beach, fed blue and green corn chips to the seagulls, and munched on blue and green jelly beans, blue and green saltwater taffy, and all the other free samples my mom had brought from work. I guess I should explain the blue and green food.

See, Gabe had once told my mom there was no such thing. They had this fight, which seemed like a really small thing at the time. But ever since, my mom went out of her way to eat blue and green. She baked blue and green birthday cakes. She mixed blueberry and green smoothies. She bought blue-corn tortilla chips and brought home blue and green candy from the shop. This-along with keeping her maiden name, Jackson, rather than calling herself Mrs. Ugliano-was proof that she wasn't totally suckered by Gabe. She did have a rebellious streak, like Percy and I.

When it got dark, we made a fire. We roasted hot dogs and marshmallows. I winced each time a tiny spark or flame jumped out of the fire. I remembered when I first tried to make a campfire right at this very beach on one of our vacation days. I lit it the campfire, but instead of a _normal_ fire, I got really excited resulting in creating a big, huge bon-fire instead. Luckily, we were near the sea and the niaeds kindly dosed the fire for me, much to my relief.

Anyway, mom told me stories about when she was a kid, back before her parents died in the plane crash. She told me about the books she wanted to write someday, when she had enough money to quit the candy shop.

Eventually, Percy got up the nerve to ask about what was always on my mind whenever we came to Montauk-my father. Mom's eyes went all misty. I figured she would tell me the same things she always did, but I never got tired of hearing them.

"He was kind, Percy," she said. Looking at my twin as she spoke. "Tall, handsome, and powerful. But gentle, too. You have his black hair, you know, and his green eyes Percy."

She left me out.

Sure it hurts, but I always knew that our Mom kinda favoured Percy when we got older. We started to look like him as we got older, but it was obvious that Percy looked like our dad the most. I looked over at the horizon, admiring the fading sunset. In the corner of my eye I could see the ocean in all it's amazing glory. I saw the dorsal fin of a dolphin and a couple of naiads watching me and Percy with curiosity, I was quite startled when I saw it, but I ignored it in the end, instead I watched the sky in silence.

_It hurts a bit, that Sally obviously favored Percy, but I didn't mind, I'm cool._

At least that's what I kept telling myself.

Mom fished a blue jelly bean out of her candy bag. "I wish he could see you two, Percy and Theodore . He would be so proud." I wondered how she could say that. What was so great about us? Two dyslexic, hyperactive boys with a D+ report card, kicked out of school for the sixth time in six years.

"How old was I?" Percy asked. "I mean ... when he left?" She watched the flames.

"He was only with me for one summer, Percy. Right here at this beach. This cabin."

"But... he knew me as a baby." Percy asked, confusion evident in his tone.

"No, honey. He knew I was expecting a baby, but he never saw you. He had to leave before you were born." I tried to square that with the fact that I seemed to remember ... something about my father. A warm glow. A smile.

I had always assumed he knew me as a baby, I mean I _saw_ him and was carried by him as a baby, but then I remembered that odd feeling when I fell asleep, it was as if something was prodding inside my head. My mom had never said it outright, but still, I'd felt it must be true. Now, to be told that he'd never even seen me ... I felt angry at my father. Maybe it was stupid, but I resented him for removing a bit of his existence in our memories. He'd left us, and now we were stuck with Smelly Gabe.

"Are you going to send me away again?" Percy asked her. "To another boarding school?"

She pulled a marshmallow from the fire. "I don't know, honey." Her voice was heavy. "I think ... I think we'll have to do something."

"Because you don't want us around?" I regretted the words as soon as they were out. I winced.

My mom's eyes welled with tears. She took our hands, squeezed it tight.

"Oh, Percy, Theodore, no. I-I have to, honey. For your own good. I have to send you away." Her words reminded me of what Percy said that Mr. Brunner had said-that it was best for us to leave Yancy.

"Because we're not normal," we said.

"You say that as if it's a bad thing, Percy, Theodore. But you don't realize how important you are. I thought Yancy Academy would be far enough away. I thought you two would finally be safe."

"Safe from what?"

She met my eyes, and a flood of memories came back to me-all the weird, scary things that had ever happened to me, some of which I'd tried to forget. During third grade, a man in a black trench coat had stalked me on the playground. When the teachers threatened to call the police, he went away growling, but no one believed Percy when he told them that under his broad-brimmed hat, the man only had one eye, right in the middle of his head.

Before that-a really early memory. I was in preschool, and a teacher accidentally put me down for a nap in a cot that a snake had slithered into. My mom screamed when she came to pick me up and found me playing with a limp, scaly rope Percy and I'd somehow managed to strangle to death with my meaty toddler hands.

I placed a free hand near to my neck.

I could still feel it. It's snaky body trying to wrap around my neck when I was a kid, when I was asleep, when I was vulnerable.

In every single school, something creepy had happened, something unsafe, and I was forced to move. I knew I should tell my mom about the old ladies at the fruit stand, and Mrs. Dodds at the art museum, about the weird red-string/life force currently tied around my wrist. But I couldn't make myself tell her. I had a strange feeling the news would end our trip to Montauk, and I didn't want that.

"I've tried to keep you as close to me as I could," my mom said. "They told me that was a mistake. But there's only one other option, Percy, Theo-the place your father wanted to send you. And I just... I just can't stand to do it."

"Our father wanted us to go to a special school?"

"Not a school," she said softly. "A summer camp."

My head was spinning. Why would my dad talk to my mom about a summer camp? And if it was so important, why hadn't she ever mentioned it before? I had so many questions, so many answers to the question itself that my head started to hurt.

"I'm sorry, Percy, Theodore," she said, seeing the look in my eyes.

"But I can't talk about it. I-I couldn't send you to that place. It might mean saying good-bye to you for good.

"For good? But if it's only a summer camp ..."

She turned toward the fire, and I knew from her expression that if we asked her any more questions she would start to cry.

That night I had a vivid dream.

It was storming on the beach, and two beautiful animals, a white horse and a golden eagle, were trying to kill each other at the edge of the surf. The eagle swooped down and slashed the horse's muzzle with its huge talons. The horse reared up and kicked at the eagles wings. As they fought, the ground rumbled, and a monstrous voice chuck-led somewhere beneath the earth, goading the animals to fight harder.

I ran toward them, knowing I had to stop them from killing each other, but I was running in slow motion. I knew I would be too late. I saw the eagle dive down, its beak aimed at the horse's wide eyes, and I screamed, No! But as I reached them, the red string around my wrist glowed a bright red, before enlarging and wrapping itself around a dark figure. I tried to lasso the figure in before the string _snapped_ and a searing pain overcame me as the red string broke.

I woke with a start.

Outside, it really was storming, the kind of storm that cracks trees and blows down houses. There were no horses or eagles on the beach, just lightning making false daylight, and twenty-foot waves pounding the dunes like artillery. Immediately I reached for the red string around my right wrist and to my relief, it was still there, glowing a bright red, but still intact.

I let out a sigh.

Soon enough, Percy woke up, his hair plastered on his face, fear written in his eyes. He too woke up with a start.

With the next thunderclap, our mom woke.

She sat up, eyes wide, and said, "Hurricane."

I knew that was crazy. Long Island never sees hurricanes this early in the summer. But the ocean seemed to have forgotten. Over the roar of the wind, I heard a distant bellow, an angry, tortured sound that made my hair stand on end. Then a much closer noise, like mallets in the sand.

A desperate voice-someone yelling, pounding on our cabin door. My mother sprang out of bed in her nightgown and threw open the lock. Grover stood framed in the doorway against a backdrop of pouring rain.

But he wasn't... he wasn't exactly Grover.

"Searching all night," he gasped.

"What were you thinking?" Our mother looked at me in terror-not scared of Grover, but of why he'd come.

"Percy, Theodore," she said, shouting to be heard over the rain.

"What happened at school? What didn't you tell me?" Percy and I were frozen, looking at Grover. I couldn't understand what I was seeing.

"O Zeu kai alloi theoi!" he yelled.

"It's right behind me! Didn't you tell her?" I was too shocked to register that he'd just cursed in Ancient Greek, and I'd understood him perfectly. I was too shocked to wonder how Grover had gotten here by himself in the middle of the night. I was too shocked that the scene in the books were really happening.

Because Grover didn't have his pants on-and where his legs should be ...

Where his legs should be ...

My mom looked at us sternly and talked in a tone she'd never/rarely used before: "Percy. Theodore. Tell me now!" Percy and I stammered something about the old ladies at the fruit stand, and Mrs. Dodds, and our mom stared at me, her face deathly pale in the flashes of lightning. She grabbed her purse, tossed me our rain jacket, and said, "Get to the car. Both of you. Go!"

Grover ran for the Camaro-but he wasn't running, exactly. He was trotting, shaking his shaggy hindquarters, and suddenly his story about a muscular disorder in his legs made sense to me. I understood how he could run so fast and still limp when he walked.

Because where his feet should be, there were no feet. There were cloven hooves.


	9. Chapter 8

We tore through the night along dark country roads.

Wind slammed against the Camaro. Rain lashed the wind-shield. I didn't know how my mom could see anything, but she kept her foot on the gas. Every time there was a flash of lightning, I looked at Grover sitting next to me in the backseat and I wondered if I'd gone insane, or if he was wearing some kind of shag-carpet pants. The moment Percy met my eyes I could tell that he felt the same. He kept turning to take a look at Grover as if trying to convince himself that it was just a dream.

A very weird dream.

But no, the smell was one I remembered from kindergarten field trips to the petting zoo- lanolin, like from wool. The smell of a wet barnyard animal.

All we could think to say was, "So, you and my mom... know each other?"

Grover's eyes flitted to the rear view mirror, though there were no cars behind us. "Not exactly," he said. "I mean, we've never met in person. But she knew I was watching the both of you. "

"Watching us?" I asked, suddenly feeling miffed.

"Keeping tabs on you. Making sure you were okay. But I wasn't faking being your friend," he added hastily, more to Percy than to me. "I am your friend."

Percy looked confused, "But um ... _what_ are you, exactly?"

"That doesn't matter right now."

Percy argued. "It doesn't matter? From the waist down, my best friend is a donkey-"

Grover let out a sharp, throaty "Blaa-ha-ha!" I'd heard him make that sound before, but I'd always assumed it was a nervous laugh. Now I realized it was more of an irritated bleat.

"Goat!" he cried.

Suddenly Percy's face was filled with confusion.

"What?"

Grover gestured to himself. "I'm a goat from the waist down."

"You just said it didn't matter." I pointed out.

"Blaa-ha-ha! There are satyrs who would trample you under hoof for such an insult!"

"Whoa. Wait. Satyrs. You mean like ... Mr. Brunner's myths?" Percy asked, his eyebrows knitted together in confusion.

"Were those old ladies at the fruit stand a myth, Percy-Theodore? Was Mrs. Dodds a _myth_?"

"Aha!"I let out a triumphant shout."So you _admit_ there was a _Mrs. Dodds_!"

"Of course."

"Then why-"

"The less you knew, the fewer monsters you'd attract," Grover said, like that should be perfectly obvious. "We put Mist over the humans' eyes. We hoped you'd think the Kindly One was a hallucination. But it was no good. You started to realize who you are."

"Who I-wait a minute, what do you mean?" The weird bellowing noise rose up again somewhere behind us, closer than before. Whatever was chasing us was still on our trail.

"Percy, Theodore," my mom said, "there's too much to explain and not enough time. We have to get you two to safety."

"Safety from what? Who's after us?" I asked, dreading to know the answer to a question I already knew the answer to.

"Oh, nobody much," Grover said, obviously still miffed about the donkey comment. "Just the Lord of the Dead and a few of his blood-thirstiest minions."

"Grover!"

"Sorry, Mrs. Jackson. Could you drive faster, please?" I tried to wrap my mind around what was happening, but I couldn't do it. I knew this wasn't a dream. I could never dream up something this weird. Besides, dream objects are not _usually_ so realistic that they could literally kill you. My mom made a hard left. We swerved onto a narrower road, racing past darkened farmhouses and wooded hills and PICK YOUR OWN STRAWBERRIES signs on white picket fences.

"Where are we going?" I asked, holding onto my seat as the car swerved violently.

"The summer camp I told you two about." My mother's voice was tight; she was trying for our sake not to be scared. "The place your father wanted to send you."

"The place you didn't want us to go." I said, still processing the actual reality of the situation.

"Please, dear," my mother begged. "This is hard enough. Try to understand. You're in danger."

"Because some old ladies cut yarn." Percy continued.

"Those weren't old ladies," Grover said. "Those were the Fates. Do you know what it means-the fact they appeared in front of you? They only do that when you're about to ... when someone's about to die."

Percy held his hands up in a sort of time-out gesture.

"Whoa. You said 'you.'"

"No I didn't. I said 'someone.'"

"You meant 'you.' As in me."

"I meant you, like 'someone.' Not you, you."

"Boys!" my mom said. She pulled the wheel hard to the right, and I got a glimpse of a figure she'd swerved to avoid-a dark fluttering shape now lost behind us in the storm.

"What was that?" I asked.

"We're almost there," my mother said, ignoring my question. "Another mile. Please. Please. Please."

I didn't know where there was, but I found myself leaning forward in the car, anticipating, wanting us to arrive. Outside, nothing but rain and darkness-the kind of empty countryside you get way out on the tip of Long Island. I thought about Mrs. Dodds and the moment when she'd changed into the thing with pointed teeth and leathery wings. My limbs went numb from delayed shock. She really hadn't been human. She'd meant to kill me.

My mind processing this information. Now I knew why Percy couldn't keep calm and think straight, we were all relying on instinct now. Suddenly everything about this world didn't seem cool, not anymore.

No it was a nightmare.

Then I thought about Mr. Brunner ... and the bow he had thrown me.

The bow.

It wasn't there originally, so why-

Before I could ask Grover about that, the hair rose on the back of my neck. There was a blinding flash, a jaw-rattling boom!, and our car exploded. I remember feeling weightless, like I was being crushed, fried, and hosed down all at the same time. I peeled my forehead off the back of the driver's seat and said,

"Ow."

"Percy! Theodore!" my mom shouted.

"I'm okay... ." I tried to shake off the daze. I wasn't dead. The car hadn't really exploded. We'd swerved into a ditch. Our driver's-side doors were wedged in the mud. The roof had cracked open like an eggshell and rain was pouring in. Lightning. That was the only explanation. We'd been blasted right off the road.

Next to me in the backseat was a big motionless lump.

"Grover!"

He was slumped over, blood trickling from the side of his mouth. I shook his furry hip, thinking, No! Even if you are half barnyard animal, you're my brother's best friend and I don't want you to die! Then he groaned "Food," and I knew there was hope.

"Percy, Theodore," my mother said, "we have to ..." Her voice faltered. I looked back. In a flash of lightning, through the mud-spattered rear windshield, I saw a figure lumbering toward us on the shoulder of the road. The sight of it made my skin crawl. It was a dark silhouette of a huge guy, like a football player. He seemed to be holding a blanket over his head. His top half was bulky and fuzzy. His upraised hands made it look like he had horns.

Percy swallowed hard. "Who is-"

"Percy," my mother said, deadly serious. "Get out of the car." My mother threw herself against the driver's-side door. It was jammed shut in the mud. I tried mine. Stuck too. I looked up desperately at the hole in the roof. It might've been an exit, but the edges were sizzling and smoking.

"Climb out the passenger's side!" my mother told me. "Percy-Theodore-you have to run. Do you see that big tree?"

"What?" Another flash of lightning, and through the smoking hole in the roof I saw the tree she meant: a huge, White House Christmas tree-sized pine at the crest of the nearest hill.

"That's the property line," my mom said. "Get over that hill and you'll see a big farmhouse down in the valley. Run and don't look back. Yell for help. Don't stop until you reach the door."

"Mom, you're coming too." Her face was pale, her eyes as sad as when she looked at the ocean.

"No!" Percy shouted. "You are coming with me. Help me carry Grover."

"Food!" Grover moaned, a little louder. The man with the blanket on his head kept coming toward us, making his grunting, snorting noises. As he got closer, I realized he couldn't be holding a blanket over his head, because his hands-huge meaty hands-were swinging at his sides. There was no blanket. Meaning the bulky, fuzzy mass that was too big to be his head ... was his head. And the points that looked like horns ...

"He doesn't want us," my mother told me. "He wants you...The both of you. Besides, I can't cross the property line."

"But..."

"We don't have time, Percy. Theodore. Go. Please." I got mad, then-mad at my mother, at Grover the goat, at the thing with horns that was lumbering toward us slowly and deliberately like, like a bull, at Percy's stubbornness. I climbed across Grover and pushed the door open into the rain.

"We're going together. Come on, Mom." Percy yelled against the rain.

"I told you-"

"Mom! I am not leaving you. Help me with Grover." Percy didn't wait for her answer. I scrambled outside, helping Percy drag Grover from the car. He was surprisingly light, but I couldn't have carried him very far if my mom and Percy hadn't came to my aid. Together, we draped Grover's arms over our shoulders and started stumbling uphill through wet waist high grass. Glancing back, I got my first clear look at the monster.

He was seven feet tall, easy, his arms and legs like something from the cover of Muscle Man magazine-bulging biceps and triceps and a bunch of other 'ceps, all stuffed like baseballs under vein-webbed skin. He wore no clothes except under-wear-I mean, bright white Fruit of the Looms-which would've looked funny, except that the top half of his body was so scary.

Coarse brown hair started at about his belly button and got thicker as it reached his shoulders. His neck was a mass of muscle and fur leading up to his enormous head, which had a snout as long as my arm, snotty nostrils with a gleaming brass ring, cruel black eyes, and horns-enormous black-and white horns with points you just couldn't get from an electric sharpener.

I recognized the monster, all right. He had been in one of the first stories Mr. Brunner told us. I blinked the rain out of my eyes. I was so surprised that I almost dropped the young Saytr.

I pointed at the figure."That's-"

"Pasiphae's son," my mother said. "I wish I'd known how badly they want to kill you."

"But he's the Min-" Percy continued.

"Don't say his name," she warned. "Names have power."

The pine tree was still way too far-a hundred yards uphill at least. I glanced behind me again. The bull-man hunched over our car, looking in the windows-or not looking, exactly. More like snuffling, nuzzling. I wasn't sure why he bothered, since we were only about fifty feet away.

"Food?" Grover moaned.

"Shhh," I told him. But he continued to moan, irritated and scared, I clamped his mouth shut.

"Mom, what's he doing? Doesn't he see us?" Percy asked.

"Yeah," I agreed. Though I kept tensing each time I heard a loud _thump. _I massaged my shoulders for a bit. I hated feeling tense. It meant danger and I don't like the idea of me-anyone of us really- to die horribly. So far, I can understand _why_ it was _highly not advisable_ to be _one_ in the first place.

I groaned.

_Why was I reborn into a Half-blood?_

"His sight and hearing are terrible," she said. "He goes by smell. But he'll figure out where we are soon enough." As if on cue, the bull-man bellowed in rage.

He picked up Gabe's Camaro by the torn roof, the chassis creaking and groaning. He raised the car over his head and threw it down the road. It slammed into the wet asphalt and skidded in a shower of sparks for about half a mile before coming to a stop. The gas tank exploded.

_Not a scratch,_ I remembered Gabe saying.

Oops.

"Percy, Theodore," my mom said. "When he sees us, he'll charge. Wait until the last second, then jump out of the way- directly sideways. He can't change directions very well once he's charging. Do you understand?"

"H-how do you know all this?" Percy asked. He looked tired and scared, not that anyone of us were looking any better.

"I've been worried about an attack for a long time. I should have expected this. I was selfish, keeping you two near me."

"Keeping us near you? But-" Another bellow of rage, and the bull-man started tromping uphill. The hair at the back of my neck rose up. Fear and adrenaline rushed through me. I wanted to turn around and hide, but I knew that I couldn't. Not now anyway.

He'd smelled us.


	10. Chapter 9

The pine tree was only a few more yards, but the hill was getting steeper and slicker, and Grover wasn't getting any lighter. I struggled to keep my balance against the slick hill, almost dropping Grover when I tripped on a piece of rock. I got up quickly, mud on my knees and feet.

The bull-man closed in. Another few seconds and he'd be on top of us.

Our mother must've been exhausted, but she shouldered Grover as I helped.

"Go, Percy! Theodore! Separate! Remember what I said." I didn't want to split up, but I had the feeling she was right-it was our only chance.

Percy sprinted to the left, while I sprinted to the far right. I turned, and I saw the creature bearing down on me, then at Percy. His black eyes glowed with hate. He reeked like rotten meat. He lowered his head, there was a small moment of hesitation when he charged, those razor-sharp horns aimed straight at Percy's chest.

The fear in my stomach made me want to bolt, but that wouldn't work. I could never outrun this thing. So I held my ground, and just when Percy was goanna be Per-shish-kebab, at the last moment, I tried to tackle the bull-man.

The bull-man stormed past Percy like a freight train, then bellowed with frustration and turned, trying to throw me off.

And he did.

The force of the impact rattled my bones and then I heard a large SNAP! Then absolute pain. Tears instantly reached my eyes, mixing with the rain. I tried to move my leg but it laid there useless. I inspected both legs and to my surprise and horror I saw that they were both bent at an odd angle. And angle I didn't deem possible to see and have right now.

Great. I broke my legs.

He turned, but not toward me like I wanted it to, this time, toward my mother, who was setting Grover down in the grass.

We'd reached the crest of the hill. Down the other side I could see a valley, just as my mother had said, and the lights of a farmhouse glowing yellow through the rain. But that was half a mile away. We'd never make it. The bull-man grunted, pawing the ground. He kept eyeing my mother, who was now retreating slowly downhill, back toward the road, trying to lead the monster away from Grover.

"Run, Percy! Theodore!" she told me. "I can't go any farther. Run!" But I just sat there, half-frozen in fear and pain, as the monster charged her. It was too much. Much more than I could've ever imagined. Fear and adrenaline ran through me as I tried to crawl using my arms. I watched as she tried to sidestep, as she'd told us to do, but the monster had learned his lesson. His hand shot out and grabbed her by the neck as she tried to get away. He lifted her as she struggled, kicking and pummeling the air.

"Mom!"

She caught my eyes, managed to choke out one last word: "Go!" Then, with an angry roar, the monster closed his fists around my mother's neck, and she dissolved before my eyes, melting into light, a shimmering golden form, as if she were a holographic projection. A blinding flash, and she was simply ... gone.

I turned around, trying to see past the rain. But I didn't need to see it. I could feel it. The feeling of anger emminating from the both of us. Both tired, confused and scared brothers seeking for revenge.

"No!"

Anger replaced my fear. New-found strength burned in my limbs-the same rush of energy I'd gotten when Mrs. Dodds grew talons. The bull-man bore down on Grover, who lay helpless in the grass. The monster hunched over, snuffling my best friend, as if he were about to lift Grover up and make him dissolve too.

I couldn't allow that. I didn't want another death, and I wasn't gonna lose my family the second time. And even though I knew that it would turn all right in the end, I just couldn't control it.

I yelled.

"Hey!" Percy and I screamed. Even through the rain, I could see Percy was waving his jacket, running to one side of the monster. "Hey, stupid! Ground beef!"

"Raaaarrrrr!" The monster turned toward me, shaking his meaty fists. I had an idea-a stupid idea, but better than no idea at all. I put my back to the big pine tree and tried to look for a stick, a broken spear, a stray arrow, anything really. And then I saw it.

A single lone arrow with twine and a flexible looking branch.

_What_?

I didn't think anything about it, but immediately I tied the twine around the edge of the branch, doing a double-knot to keep it in place. I kept looking over my shoulder knowing that Percy was about to do one of his most famous jump and act as a Half-blood.

He was gonna ride it.

I finished the bow with difficulty, and with the rain obscuring my vision it was almost _impossible_ for me to shoot properly. I took the lone arrow and aimed, praying that I wouldn't miss this important shot.

Time slowed down. I heard a bellow and a person running. My arms tensed.

I looked ahead and then I saw him.

He leaped straight up, kicking off from the creature's head, using it as a springboard, turning in midair, and landing on his neck.

Automatically my mind asked: How did he do that?

I didn't have time to figure it out. A millisecond later, the monster's head slammed into the tree, right above my head. The monster hit his head pretty hard and the impact nearly knocked my teeth out. I The bull-man staggered around, trying to shake Percy off him. I locked my vision onto the Minotaur's back. It was risky, with Percy on him, but I had to take my chances.

I drew the bow.

Thunder and lightning were still going strong. The rain was in my eyes. The smell of rotten meat burned my nostrils. The monster shook himself around and bucked like a rodeo bull. He should have just backed up into the tree and smashed me flat, but I was starting to realize that this thing had only one gear: forward.

Meanwhile, Grover started groaning in the grass. I wanted to yell at him to shut up, but the way I was so close to the Minotaur, if I opened my mouth he'd bite my own head off and Percy wouldn't be able to hang on.

"Food!" Grover moaned. The bull-man wheeled toward him, pawed the ground again, and got ready to charge. I thought about how he had squeezed the life out of our mother, made her disappear in a flash of light, and rage filled me like high-octane fuel. I got both hands around the bow, its base almost cracking. I pulled backward with all my might.

The monster tensed, gave a surprised grunt, then-snap! The bull-man screamed and flung Percy through the air. It was now or never.

I shot.

The arrow pierced the eye of the monster just barely. The monster roared and then charged. The Minotaur was angry and was weakened. I also knew that he was coming straight towards me. Without thinking, I rolled to one side with difficulty and barely avoided getting smashed. I yelled in pain as I moved my legs. Black spots danced in front of me and I blinked in pain.

As the monster barreled past, I saw Percy drive the broken horn straight into his side, right up under his furry rib cage. The bull-man roared in agony. He flailed, clawing at his chest, then began to disintegrate-not like my mother, in a flash of golden light, but like crumbling sand, blown away in chunks by the wind, the same way Mrs. Dodds had burst apart.

The monster was gone. The rain had stopped. The storm still rumbled, but only in the distance. I smelled like livestock and my arms were shaking. My head felt like it was splitting open. I was weak and scared and trembling with grief I'd just seen my mother vanish. Then the adrenaline rush left me and I almost blacked out in pain. I wanted to lie down and cry, but there was Grover and Percy, needing my help, so I managed to crawl up to him up and stagger down into the valley, toward the lights of the farm-house.

We were crying. Percy held Grover as he called for our mom, I tried to support myself but instead I crawled. My jeans were ripped, my hands had cuts and bruises from crawling all the way to camp and my stomach was poked repetitively by rocks. I bit out a cry. Dust clinged to me and I continued to crawl. Black spots danced across my eyes and my nose hurts. Percy didn't look any better.

I continued to crawl, following Percy.

With my temporary bow slung across my chest, and the lone arrow I had shot was still in my hand, I wasn't going to let it go. The last thing I remember is collapsing on a wooden porch, looking up at a ceiling fan circling above me, moths flying around a yellow light, and the stern faces of a familiar-looking bearded man and a pretty girl, her blond hair curled like a princess's.

_Annabeth_…

They both looked down at me, and then Annabeth said, gesturing to my brother, Percy."He's the one. He must be."

"Silence, Annabeth," the man said. "They're still conscious. Bring them inside."

And then my world turned dark.


	11. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: I don't own ****Percy Jackson**

**Chapter 7 **

The next day I woke up. My back hurt a lot and I felt like Gabe threw a drinking-poker party in a giant-_Titanic_-size ship and placed it on top of me.

In short it hurts.

The pain came back to me at such a surprising force that I blacked out the moment I woke up.

When I finally came around for good, there was nothing weird about my surroundings, except that they were nicer than I was used to. I was sitting in a deck chair on a huge porch, gazing across a meadow at green hills in the distance. The breeze smelled like strawberries. There was a blanket over my legs, a pillow behind my neck.

I craned my neck to study my surroundings. Judging by the way both of my legs still hurts and that the sun was rising quickly that I woke up early morning. I wiggled my toes and arms to try to get the feeling back and relaxed when I felt that it seemed to be getting better. I laid my head back down.

All that was great, but my mouth felt like a scorpion had been using it for a nest. My tongue was dry and nasty and every one of my teeth hurt. Instinctively I moved my legs a bit and to my surprise and delight, it moved. I moved it again, flexing it and bending it repetitively.

It felt good, I felt like I was good as new.

On the table next to me was a tall drink. It looked like iced apple juice, with a green straw and a paper parasol stuck through a maraschino cherry. It was nectar.

Nectar.

The food of the gods.

My hand was so weak I almost dropped the glass once I got my fingers around it.

"Careful," a familiar voice said. Grover was leaning against the porch railing, looking like he hadn't slept in a week. Under one arm, he cradled a narrow box. He was wearing blue jeans, Converse hi-tops and a bright orange T-shirt that said CAMP HALF-BLOOD.

_Camp Half-Blood._

My head spun.

_No way that it was happening._ I took a glance at Grover.

Just plain old Grover, Not the goat boy. So maybe I'd had a nightmare. Maybe my mom was okay. We were still on vacation, and we'd stopped here at this big house for some reason. But then I noticed something else.

"You saved my life," Grover said.

_It was really happening._

I stayed silent as I tried to process the information.

Grover continued. "I... well, the least I could do ... we had to pry the arrow from you so that your hand wouldn't get cramped. I thought you might want this." Reverently, he placed the narrow box on my lap.

My "arrow" was gone. Inside was a pure white shaft arrow with celestial bronze tip. The tip splattered with dried blood.

I didn't mind about losing the crude bow, but what really surprised me was that my arrow was a beauty, and that I didn't notice it before, even before I blacked out. I steeled my nerves and kept calm, not knowing what was goanna happen next. But as I looked at Grover once more, looking all fit and healthy when it was _his_ cowardince that got _us _injured in the first place.

"You," I said angrily. "Where's Percy?"

I made a move to stand, but finding that I couldn't, settled instead to glaring at Grover. Grover flinched.

Percy said that when I get mad, as in _really mad _and I glare at someone, Percy said that my eyes held a picture of a stormy sea. A sea similar to the ones in Montauk when it was really high and the waters were so dangerous that our mom had to bring us back home early due to the incoming chance of floods. Outside, a small miniature earthquake rumbled.

Grover looked surprised and looked up, expecting an Olympian sized BOOM! to come swallow him whole. Suddenly Grover looked smaller, "Well, Percy's fine, he's still in a different room, but he's still fine."

I calmed down a bit. I breathed heavily, both from being tired by my latest miniature earthquake and in an effort to calm myself down.

I glared at Grover once more.

"What was that thing?"I demanded.

Grover looked at me warily.

"The Minotaur. Half man, half bull." Grover shifted uncomfortably. "You've been out for about two days. How much do you remember?"

I closed my eyes. Remembering the roar of the Minotaur and how close it had been from killing the both of us. I kept my breathing even, though my face was probably saying something different.

"All of it."

"Oh"

"So my mom. Is she really ..." He looked down. I stared across the meadow. There were groves of trees, a winding stream, acres of strawberries spread out under the blue sky. The valley was surrounded by rolling hills, and the tallest one, directly in front of us, was the one with the huge pine tree on top. Even that looked beautiful in the sunlight.

My mother was gone. The whole world should be black and cold. Nothing should look beautiful.

"I'm sorry," Grover sniffled. "I'm a failure. I'm-I'm the worst satyr in the world." He moaned, stomping his foot so hard it came off. I mean, the Converse hi-top came off. The inside was filled with Styrofoam, except for a hoof-shaped hole.

"Oh, Styx!" he mumbled. Thunder rolled across the clear sky. As he struggled to get his hoof back in the fake foot, I thought, Well, that settles it.

Grover was a satyr.

I was ready to bet that if I shaved his curly brown hair, I'd find tiny horns on his head. But I was too miserable to care that satyrs existed, or even Minotaurs. All that meant was my mom really had been squeezed into nothingness, dissolved into yellow light.

Percy and I were alone. We were orphans. I would have to live with ... Smelly Gabe? No. That would never happen. I would live on the streets first. I would pretend I was seventeen and join the army. I'd do something.

Grover was still sniffling. The poor kid-poor goat, satyr, whatever-looked as if he expected to be hit, and right now I was seriously contemplating it.

"It was your fault?" I said, though it came out more of a question. My ocean blue eyes flickered towards Grover's shivering form.

"Yes, it was. I was supposed to protect you."

I started to calm down a little, listening to him, intrigued.

"Did my mother ask you to protect me?"

"No. But that's my job. I'm a keeper. At least... I was."

"But why ..." I suddenly felt dizzy, my vision swimming. I clutched my head groaning.

"Don't strain yourself," Grover said. "Here." He helped me hold my glass and put the straw to my lips.

I recoiled at the taste, because I was expecting apple juice. It wasn't that at all. It was chocolate-chip cookies. Liquid cookies. And not just any cookies-my mom's homemade chocolate-chip cookies, buttery and hot, with the chips still melting. And not Sally, I meant my _real_ mom. Drinking it, my whole body felt warm and good, full of energy.

My grief didn't go away, but I felt as if _my_ mom had just brushed her hand against my cheek, given me a cookie the way she used to when I was small, and told me everything was going to be okay. Before I knew it, I'd almost drained the glass. I stared into it, sure I'd just had a warm drink, but the ice cubes hadn't even melted.

"Was it good?" Grover asked. I nodded.

"What did it taste like?" He sounded so wistful and so small, I felt a bit guilty for getting angry at him.

"Sorry," I said. "I should've not shouted at you"

His eyes got wide. "No! That's not what I meant. I just... well thanks."

"Chocolate-chip cookies," I said. "My mom's. Home-made."

I continued to sip it a bit, being lost in simple wistfulness, before finally draining the glass. I felt a sudden warm feeling before it receded.

He sighed. "And how do you feel?"

"Like I could throw you a hundred yards."

He flinched a bit. "That's good," he said. "That's good. I don't think you could risk drinking any more of that stuff"

"What do you mean?" He took the empty glass from me gingerly, as if it were dynamite, and set it back on the table. He grabbed a spare stick-like thing people use to walk with a broken leg.

Crutches?

He handed the wooden crutches to me and helped me up. I wobbled for a bit before being able to stand up, thanks to the crutches.

_Well looks like it didn't completely heal..._

"Come on. Chiron and Mr. D are waiting."


	12. Chapter 11

It turns out that the porch wrapped all the way around the farmhouse.

My legs felt wobbly, trying to walk that far. I nearly tripped a couple of times on the crutches, but luckily Grover was able to catch my falls. Grover offered to carry my stuff, but I held on to it. I'd paid for that souvenir the hard way. I wasn't going to let it go.

He was quiet the whole time we were walking and I realized that he must have _really _felt this _bad _about getting my brother and I in trouble cause he didn't meet my gaze most of the time and he just pointed carefully towards the different parts of the house/porch/clinic/farmhouse. As if _I _was going to attack him with my fiery temper.

As we came around the opposite end of the house, I caught my breath. We must've been on the north shore of Long Island, because on this side of the house, the valley marched all the way up to the water, which glittered about a mile in the distance. Between here and there, I simply couldn't process everything I was seeing. The landscape was dotted with buildings that looked like ancient Greek architecture-an open-air pavilion, an amphitheater, a circular arena-except that they all looked brand new, their white marble columns sparkling in the sun. In a nearby sandpit, a dozen high school-age kids and satyrs played volleyball. Canoes glided across a small lake. Kids in bright orange T-shirts like Grover's were chasing each other around a cluster of cabins nestled in the woods.

Some shot targets at an archery range.

"That's the Archery Range." Grover pointed at a small filled occupied by a few kids with bows and arrows. They looked quite similar to each other. All had varying shades of gold blonde hair, sky-blue eyes and both smiles and songs on their lips. I saw a lean boy pick up his bow and aimed for a while, before letting it go. I watched as the arrow hit it's mark with a loud _TWACK_!.

"Those are-"

"Apollo campers, don't mind them. Always showing off for the new comers."

I saw what he meant.

One caught my eye and waved before continuing to shoot with the bow.

TWACK!

Another arrow sailed the air before being stopped by the straw targets.

We continued walking towards the amazing scenery with a sort of easiness. And by easiness, he was talking a bit more, now that he saw that the archery range caught my attention.

I spotted other campers riding horses down a wooded trail, and, unless I was hallucinating, some of their horses had wings.

"Are those-"

He shifted a glance at the horses with-wings?- as if it was a normal occasion. Seeing him in all his _goatiness _it probably _is. _

"Nothing much. We'll explain it to you later."

_"We?"_

Grover stayed quiet and continued walking towards a building. Down at the end of the porch, two men sat across from each other at a card table. The blond-haired girl who'd spoon-fed me popcorn-flavored pudding was leaning on the porch rail next to them.

The man facing me was small, but porky. He had a red nose, big watery eyes, and curly hair so black it was almost purple. He looked like those paintings of baby angels- what do you call them, hubbubs? No, cherubs. That's it. He looked like a cherub who'd turned middle-aged in a trailer park. He wore a tiger pattern Hawaiian shirt, and he would've fit right in at one of Gabe's poker parties, except I got the feeling this guy could've out-gambled even my step-father.

"That's Mr. D," Grover murmured to me. "He's the camp director. Be polite. The girl, that's Annabeth Chase. She's just a camper, but she's been here longer than just about anybody. And you already know Chiron..."

He pointed at the guy whose back was to me.

First, I realized he was sitting in the wheelchair. Then I recognized the tweed jacket, the thinning brown hair, the scraggly beard.

"Mr. Brunner!" I cried.

The Latin teacher turned and smiled at me. His eyes had that mischievous glint they sometimes got in class when he pulled a pop quiz and made all the multiple choice answers B.

"Ah, good, Theodore!" he said. "Now we have four for pinochle."

He offered me a chair to the right of Mr. D, who looked at me with bloodshot eyes and heaved a great sigh. "Oh, I suppose I must say it. Welcome to Camp Half-Blood. There. Now, don't expect me to be glad to see you."

"Uh, thanks." I scooted a little farther away from him because, if there was one thing I had learned from living with Gabe, it was how to tell when an adult has been hit-ting the _happy juice._ If Mr. D was a stranger to alcohol, I was a satyr.

I took the seat with a grateful smile directed to Mr. Brunner. As I struggled to sit properly with the crutches.

"Um. No _thanks-sir-" _I added hastily, suddenly remembering the fact that Mr. D, being a major character, was also a _major god._

"I don't know how to play pinochle."

Mr. Brunner's eyes' twinkled.

"I understand."

"At _least_ this _one _is a smart one. I wonder what his twin will be like." Mr. D huffed.

_"Annabeth?"_ Mr. Brunner called to the blond girl.

She came forward and Mr. Brunner introduced us. "This young lady is currently nursing your brother to health Theodore. Annabeth, my dear, why don't you go check on Percy and Theodore's bunk? I have a feeling that we'll be putting them in cabin eleven for now, _very_ soon."

Annabeth said, "Sure, Chiron."

She was probably my age, maybe a couple of inches taller, and a whole lot more athletic looking. With her deep tan and her curly blond hair, she was almost exactly what I thought a stereotypical California girl would look like, except her eyes ruined the image. They were startling gray, like storm clouds; pretty, but intimidating, too, as if she were analyzing the best way to take me down in a fight.

She looked exactly like what the books described her as. Right down to the stormy eyes.

I guess she also had the feeling that _I _was _analyzing _her too cause she looked at me up and down with her hands at her hips. A slight smirk on her face. She glanced at the arrow in my hands, then back at me.

Instantly, I felt threatened, and tried to stand up as well, keeping level eye contact with Annabeth. I kept one hand the my clutch and one hand to my arrow in a sort of, threatening look.

Instead she said, "You look funny."

Instantly my threatening look crumbled and I could feel my eyebrow shooting up. I tilted my head slightly, as if trying to figure what that statement meant. Self-consciously I touched my face with a frown.

She just smirked/smiled. Then she sprinted off down the lawn, her blond hair flying behind, her.

"So," I said, anxious to change the subject. "You, uh, work here, Mr. Brunner?" Returning back to my seat near Mr. D.

"Not Mr. Brunner," the ex-Mr. Brunner said. "I'm afraid that was a pseudonym. You may call me Chiron."

"Okay." Confused, I looked at the director. "And Mr. D?"

Mr. D stopped shuffling the cards. He looked at me like I'd just belched loudly. "Young man, names are powerful things. You don't just go around using them for no reason."

"Oh. Right. Sorry."

"I must say, Theodore," Chiron/Brunner broke in, "I'm glad to see you alive. It's been a long time since I've made a house call to a potential camper. I'd hate to think I've wasted my time."

"House call?"

"My year at Yancy Academy, to instruct you. We have satyrs at most schools, of course, keeping a lookout. But Grover alerted me as soon as he met you. He sensed you were something special, so I decided to come upstate. I convinced the other Latin teacher to ... ah, take a leave of absence."

I tried to remember the beginning of the school year. It seemed like so long ago, but I did have a fuzzy memory of there being another Latin teacher my first week at Yancy. Then, without explanation, he had disappeared and Mr. Brunner had taken the class.

"You came to Yancy just to teach me?" I asked.

Chiron nodded. "Honestly, I wasn't sure about you at first. We contacted your mother, let her know we were keeping an eye on you in case you were ready for Camp Half-Blood. But you still had so much to learn. Nevertheless, you made it here alive, and that's always the first test."

"Grover," Mr. D said impatiently, "are you playing or not?"

"Yes, sir!" Grover trembled as he took the fourth chair, though I didn't know why he should be so afraid of a pudgy little man in a tiger-print Hawaiian shirt.

"You _do_ know how to play? Don't you?" Mr. D asked Grover with a suspicious tone.

"Yes sir!" Grover squeaked.

"Well," he told me, "it is, along with gladiator fighting and Pac-Man, one of the greatest games ever invented by humans. I would expect all civilized young men to know the rules."

"I'm sure that both boys can learn," Chiron said.

_"Please-sirs"_ I said, "what is this place? What am I doing here? Mr. Brun-Chiron-why would you go to Yancy Academy just to teach me and my brother?"

Mr. D snorted. "I asked the same question."

The camp director dealt the cards. Grover flinched every time one landed in his pile.

Chiron smiled at me sympathetically, the way he used to in Latin class, as if to let me know that no matter what my average was, I was his star student. He expected me to have the right answer.

"Theodore," he said. "Did your mother tell you nothing?'

"She said ..." I remembered her sad eyes, looking out over the sea. "She told me she was afraid to send me here, even though my father had wanted her to. She said that once I was here, I probably couldn't leave. She wanted to keep me close to her."

"Typical," Mr. D said. "That's how they usually get killed. Young man, are you playing or not?"

"What?" I asked.

He explained, impatiently, how you play pinochle, and so I did, out of _er-will._

"I'm afraid there's too much to tell," Chiron said. "I'm afraid our usual orientation film won't be sufficient."

"Orientation film?" I asked looking at Chiron increciously. "You actually have an orientation film for a magical camp?"

Chiron gave me a wry smile. "You would be surprised."

Chiron took a deep breath. "Well, Theodore. You know your friend Grover is a satyr. You know"-he pointed to the horn in the shoe box-"that you have killed the Minotaur with the help of Percy of course. No small feat, either, lad. What you may not know is that great powers are at work in your life. Gods-the forces you call the Greek gods-are very much alive."

I stared at the others around the table. But all I got was Mr. D yelling, "Oh, a royal marriage. Trick! Trick!" He cackled as he tallied up his points.

"Mr. D," Grover asked timidly, "if you're not going to eat it, could I have your Diet Coke can?"

"Eh? Oh, all right."

Grover bit a huge shard out of the empty aluminum can and chewed it mournfully.

"Wait," I told Chiron, slowly. "You're telling me there's such a thing as God."

"Well, now," Chiron said. "God-capital G, God. That's a different matter altogether. We shan't deal with the metaphysical."

"Metaphysical? But you were just talking about-"

"Ah, gods, plural, as in, great beings that control the forces of nature and human endeavors: the immortal gods of Olympus. That's a smaller matter."

I looked at him like he was half-goat, (which by far wasn't that too far off.). "A smaller matter?"

"Yes, quite. The gods we discussed in Latin class."

"Zeus," I started slowly. "Hera. Apollo. You mean them."

And there it was again-distant thunder on a cloud-less day.

"Young man," said Mr. D, "I would really be less casual about throwing those names around, if I were you."

"But they're stories," I said. Sticking to playing dumb. Which may or may not be the wisest choice for me to do. "They're-just myths, to explain lightning and the seasons and stuff. They're what people believed before there was science."

"Science!" Mr. D scoffed. "And tell me, Theseus Jackson"-I flinched when he said my real name, which I never told anybody-"what will people think of your 'science' two thousand years from now?" Mr. D continued. "Hmm? They will call it primitive mumbo jumbo. That's what. Oh, I love mortals-they have absolutely no sense of perspective. They think they've come so-o-o far. And have they, Chiron? Look at this boy and tell me."

I wasn't liking Mr. D much, but there was something about the way he called me mortal, as if...he wasn't. It was enough to put a lump in my throat, to suggest why Grover was dutifully minding his cards, chewing his soda can, and keeping his mouth shut. I nearly gave myself a heart-attack hen I finally remembered who I was talking to. An immortal great. And not just any immortal.

An Olympian.

"Theodore," Chiron said, "you may choose to believe or not, but the fact is that immortal means immortal. Can you imagine that for a moment, never dying? Never fading? Existing, just as you are, for all time?"

I was about to answer, off the top of my head, that it sounded like a pretty good deal, but the tone of Chiron's voice made me hesitate.

"You mean, whether people believed in you or not," I said.

"Exactly," Chiron agreed. "If you were a god, how would you like being called a myth, an old story to explain lightning? What if I told you, Theseus Jackson, that some-day people would call you a myth, just created to explain how little boys can get over losing their mothers?"

My heart pounded. He was trying to make me angry for some reason, but I wasn't going to let him. I said, "I wouldn't like it."

"Oh, you'd better," Mr. D murmured. "Before one of them incinerates you."

Grover said, "P-please, sir. He's just lost his mother. He's in shock."

"A lucky thing, too," Mr. D grumbled, playing a card. "Bad enough I'm confined to this miserable job, working with boys who don't even believe.'"

He waved his hand and a goblet appeared on the table, as if the sunlight had bent, momentarily, and woven the air into glass. The goblet filled itself with red wine. My jaw dropped, but Chiron hardly looked up.

_Yup, __definitely __an Olympian…_

"Mr. D," he warned, "your restrictions."

Mr. D looked at the wine and feigned surprise.

"Dear me." He looked at the sky and yelled, "Old habits! Sorry!"

More thunder.

Mr. D waved his hand again, and the wineglass changed into a fresh can of Diet Coke. He sighed unhappily, popped the top of the soda, and went back to his card game.

Chiron winked at me. "Mr. D offended his father a while back, took a fancy to a wood nymph who had been declared off-limits."

"A wood nymph...right," I repeated, still staring at the Diet Coke can like it was from outer space. Slowly reprocessing the events that were unfolding like a line of dominoes.

"Yes," Mr. D confessed. "Father loves to punish me. The first time, Prohibition. Ghastly! Absolutely horrid ten years! The second time-well, she really was pretty, and I couldn't stay away-the second time, he sent me here. Half-Blood Hill. Summer camp for brats like you. 'Be a better influence,' he told me. 'Work with youths rather than tearing them down.' Ha.' Absolutely unfair."

Mr. D sounded about six years old, like a pouting little kid.

"And ..." I stammered, "your father is Zeus and you are..."

"Di immortales, Chiron," Mr. D said. "I thought you taught this boy the basics. My father is Zeus, at least you got that right."

I ran through D names from Greek mythology. Wine. The skin of a tiger. The satyrs that all seemed to work here. The way Grover cringed, as if Mr. D were his master. And the fact that I finally remembered who he was basically confirmed my thoughts.

"You're Dionysus," I said. "The god of wine."

Mr. D rolled his eyes. "What do they say, these days, Grover? Do the children say, 'Well, duh!'?"

"Y-yes, Mr. D."

"Then, well, duh! Theodore Jackson. Did you think I was Aphrodite, perhaps?"

"No sir."

"Goodness child! At least you have a slice of common sense in you."

"Thank you sir."

"Good." The god looked calmer now. Then he turned to look at Grover and with a dismissive hand pointed at me. "Grover, take this boy to the infirmity this instant! I will not have a crippled kid be my father's excuse to make me stay at this confounded place for another millennium!" And with that, he turned back to his cards.

Grover let out a bleat that sounded between nervous and happy. "Yes sir." Grover was about to help me up when Mr. D added as an afterthought.

"Oh, and send his twin brother along, I think he will be waking up soon."

Grover merely nodded and left the alcoholic god from his presence. As Grover tugged me by my arm, he said with an urgent voice, "C'mon Theodore, one does **not **disobey a direct order from Mr. D."

With that, I just shrugged, and let Grover lead me to the infirmary without a second thought.


	13. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer: I don't ****own Percy Jackson. If I did, I would have killed Octavian the moment Percy saw him in SON. **

**Chapter 7**

He dragged me to the "porch area", where this time, a handful of high-school aged kids were patching up various kids. Some were even on fire! He pointed towards a small area where a couple of kids on crutches, or slings, were getting healed by a few blonde and brunet teenagers.

"Hey Grover." I asked.

"Yeah?"

"This doesn't look like a place Mr. D would be in. Would it?"

"Yeah," Grover agreed, though he was looking around as if one wrong word and he would be in for hunting season."I mean, he's a great Director, but with all the things that are happening lately-" Grover then fell silenced, as if a thought was bothering him about something.

"What things?" I prompted.

Grover snapped out of his thoughts. "Nothing! Anyway, this is the infirmary, the place where we healed you when you were out." Grover said. Gesturing to the familiar building filled with injured kids.

I looked at the familiar building. "Oh."

"Percy's in there too, but…" Grover started. Eyes darting up and down.

I nodded. "I can't visit him-at least not yet- right?"

Grover blushed, looking down. "Yeah."

I shrugged. "It's okay."

Grover looked back up. "Really?"

"Yeah," I nodded. "This place looks really cool, and being the _accepting_ person that I am-" I continued, using sarcasm against myself. "I think I will be able to adjust to it a little bit better than Percy. _Besides,_ I got to be _ahead_ of him at _something._ If not swimming, then the Mythological Side of the world."

I must have sounded a bit bitter and jealous, but Grover just nodded, though he was frowning a bit.

_"Arg._ I'm bad at explanations... What I meant to say was-"

"No. It's okay, I understand."

"Great! Now how do I fix this-" I gestured to my legs, and messier-than-normal look on my face. "-perfect mess of a kid?"

I puffed out my chest with a sort of fake pride. Grover smiled at my antics.

"You can start out here. Hey Will!" Grover shouted. Soon enough, a blonde boy with shaggy blonde hair and sun-kissed skin came running towards us. He was tall, with a build leaning towards a surfer look. He smiled brightly, but tired smile appeared on his face. He was wearing a CAMP HALF-BLOOD t-shirt as well, making him seem like an overly hyper and happy squeezed out orange. On his wrist was an Ace Bandage. He looked around thirteen years old but his youthful face made me hesitate in what age he is.

"Hey Grover. How are you now? Is your wrist fixed up?"

Grover nodded, smiling as he shook Will's hand. "Yeah. Thanks Will."

Wrist?

Now that he mentioned it, there was that one time, right before the exams, that Grover accidentally sprained his wrist due to an accident with one of the sharpeners and a bunch of textbooks. Needless to say, Grover went down pretty fast when his wrist was sprained, but the next day, Grover's wrist became magically well again.

"Don't mention it." Will said. His smile as radiant as the Sun itself, then he caught my gaze. "Who's this guy?"

"A new camper." Grover replied.

"Well he looks like he isn't healed completely yet."

His bright blue eyes scanned my injuries with a small look of concern. Then a small flash of recognition shined on his face.

"Hey, I know you! You're the kid that Josh was supposed to heal from the Minotaur attack." He said. Face beaming. "I'm Will. Will Solace from the Apollo Cabin. "

Silence. Not the good silence, more of the awkward kind.

"I'll just go now." Grover said breaking the silence. He looked back and forth, probably sensing that something awkward was goanna happen soon. "You know, to get some new clothes for Theodore. Take care of him Will." And with that, Grover trotted out of sight.

And then the questions began. I stood there awkwardly as he started rambling on about his job as a medic and exclaiming how Josh was "a horrible healer" and that Percy and I got pretty famous about the whole "Minotaur incident."

I tried to tell him that it was no big deal and that I was getting pretty tired, but then he said:

"No big deal? Dude!? Do you know that fighting a Minotaur is something that can't really be called as no big deal. You got to have some pretty good aim to be able to shoot him down with one arrow."

"How did you-"

"-Know? Well, I figured that out when you were holding an arrow. Besides-" He said enthusiastically. "You might be a Son Of Apollo as well!"

"Good to hear that, but can you fix me up a bit?"

"Sure thing." He said, leading me slowly towards a small cot.

"Thanks."

"You know-" Will said as he got various containers and herbs and some nectar and ambrosia from a small pantry. "You're taking this quite well for a kid like you. I mean, aren't you freaking out?" He took a bottle of nectar and looked at my figure up and down before putting the contents of the bottle into a small plastic cup about half-way. Once he was done he took my legs and stretched them on the cot, he also took my crutches and removed them, saying:

"This is goanna hurt for a bit." And then he forced the bones to connect. I screamed in pain. Call me a baby, but all I had was the knowledge of the world. Not invincibility in it. After I stopped screaming bloody murder he pushed the cup of nectar into my hands. Its apple-cider colour interested me for a bit before I drowned the cup.

Immediately I felt power coursing through my veins and into my legs. My senses became heightened and I felt the same rush of power when I fought the Minotaur with Percy. When I was able to drink all of the cup's contents, Will threw the plastic cup expertly into a trash bin without even looking back. He pretended to roll his sleeves before putting his hands on my legs. Then he concentrated.

A warm yellowish colour of pure healing power erupted from Will's hands and I watched, fascinated as the medic closed his eyes, concentrating as he healed the bones in my legs completely. I felt a warm, relaxing power in my legs as he sped up the healing process. Finally, Will let go and I felt all of the warm power rush out of my legs and out of my system.

Will grabbed a nearby chair and sat down for a bit, looking tired and sweaty, but mostly tired.

"So? What's your answer?" He sat on the chair, wringing his hands together as exhaustion came towards his figure. He sat there, waiting patiently for me to answer his question.

I laid my head down and thought about it for a moment.

"Well, actually… The truth is, I am freaking out. "

He leaned closer.

"Yeah, me too. I mean- monsters? gods? Demigods? It's all too fantasy-like."

I nodded inwardly. It was the truth.

It was the truth the moment I saw Camp Half-Blood, the moment Grover revealed his race, the moment Percy and I fought the Minotaur. It was a freaky world to live in, and it was a freaky world today.

"But… you get used to it. I mean, there are still some pretty weird stuff happening-" He pointed to the arrow, "-But you have to get used to it. Otherwise, it would drive me mad. Heck, it would drive anyone else mad. "

I nodded, understanding his logic. For a medic, he is pretty wise.

"Anyway," Will started, probably sensing the slight awkward feeling in the room. "Now you have to be careful with your legs. Don't put too much strain to it. Here-" He said, handing back the crutches. "You might have a larger tendency to fall down so you can have these back. Come back in three days for a check-up okay?"

He looked at me sternly. "I mean it, be careful in doing physical activities okay? I mean, you can still do normal stuff, like taking a bath and all that, just try to not break it when you're doing it. Got it?"

I nodded. "Okay."

"Good. Now speaking about taking a bath, Grover said that you needed to get a change of clothes. Well here it is-" He tossed me an orange Camp t-shirt and pointed to a door. "There's a toilet around the back. You will be able to find it, and it's a good practice to get used to the feeling of walking properly again."

"Thanks."

I grabbed the shirt left to find the toilet. It was kinda weird to not feel a surge of pain spike up my foot every time I walked, but at the same time it felt nice. Granted that feeling pain every time you walk isn't a normal thing in the first place so I let it go.

I found the toilet pretty quickly, and I changed. I took of my slightly, mud-crusted jacket. I inspected my jacket, and smiled when it wasn't really that worn. I placed it on a left over hanger. That's when I saw my shirt. I frowned.

The rocks and other objects on the ground must have been sharper than I thought as my t-shirt was ripped to shreds on the front. I was wearing my jacket on the whole time, so I never really bothered to check my shirt shirt. I closed my eyes, trying to remember and then I realized that, my jacket wasn't zipped up, so my shirt must have take most of the damage on my chest area.

I sighed.

I took of my shirt and stood there, shirtless. I inspected the orange t-shirt in the mirror and wasn't that surprised to see blue eyes and black hair to greet me. What did surprise me was that slightly brooding look clashing with my "neutral face". I shrugged it off and combed my hair with my hand.

I smiled in the mirror and experimentally flexed my muscles from swimming in Montauk. I smiled. I admit, that I do look handsome. I continued doing that in front of the mirror for a bit before remembering that I had to meet with Grover outside. So, without a second thought, I wore the Camp t-shirt and ran outside. Relishing the feeling of power in my legs once more.

T didn't take long for me to find him.

"Hey Grover." I yelled. Jogging to his place on the porch. I held onto my crutches and smiled as Grover wore a surprised look on his face.

"Theodore! You're walking properly now!" Grover exclaimed as he trotted towards me.

I laughed.

"Yeah! I feel so happy!" I exclaimed. Some people turned their heads in my exclamation while others just scowled at my happiness. I didn't care, I can run now.

"That's good. Well, I need your help. I figured that you will probably need a better explanation about what is happening so I was going to introduce her to you so that she can show you around properly. But I can't seem to find her-" At that moment, Grover looked around, hoping that this mystery kid would show up.

"-Wait." I said, "Who's this she? And you want me to understand so much, why didn't you just ask Chiron about it?"

"Well," Grover said, Chiron is talking to your brother right now, I suppose, and Mr. D will be slightly irritated at this hour too. So I really can't talk to Chiron about that matter."

I sighed.

"Fine, let's go find this mystery girl. First question though."

Grover started to walk. "What?"

"Who is she anyways?"

Grover stopped walking, and then he turned towards me with a small smile on his face.

"She's my friend."


	14. Chapter 13

"So..." I started, nervously running my hand in my now freshly combed hair, messing it up once more. "Who are we looking for again?"

Grover just kept looking around. "You'll see."

Soon enough, Grover led me back to the U shaped/arranged cabins. Eventually I caught sight of my new guide. The blond girl (Annabeth) I'd met at the Big House was reading a book in front of the last cabin on the left, number eleven.

I almost laughed at the sight of her reading.

_Typical Annabeth._

When we reached her, she looked me over critically, like she was still thinking about how weird I look to her.

I tried to see what she was reading, but I couldn't make out the title. I thought my dyslexia was acting up. Then I realized the title wasn't even English. The letters looked Greek to me. I mean, literally Greek. There were pictures of temples and statues and different kinds of columns, like those in an architecture book.

"Theodore, this is Annabeth. Annabeth, Theodore." Grover introduced.

I waved awkwardly at her as she closed her book. An Owl bookmark marking her page.

"C'mon Theodore. Annabeth is going to show you around. Okay?" There was an awkward silence as Annabeth and I looked at each other. One a knowing one and one a curious one.

"Okay, Grover."

Grover looked relieved. "Thanks Annabeth. I need to go now, got to check on Percy." And with that he left me alone with the famous Annabeth Chase.

Out of all the cabins, eleven looked the most like a regular old summer camp cabin, with the emphasis on old. The threshold was worn down, the brown paint peeling. Over the doorway was one of those doctor's symbols, a winged pole with two snakes wrapped around it. What did they call it... ? A caduceus

After Grover left me with Annabeth Chase, the first thing I got from her was a:

"Hi, my name is Annabeth Chase." Taking her hand out for me to shake. I shook her hand firmly.

I was about to reply when she interrupted me, "You're Theodore Jackson right? Are you named after the Pres. Theodore Roosevelt? "

_Only Annabeth. _

I shook my head and gave her a wry smile. "Yeah, you can say that."

And that's basically how we were able to become acquaintances. Annabeth explained to me how everything is like and the things that needed explaining. She pointed to the various buildings and areas including the arena and how the dome structure was a good way to keep one in the arena as opposed to an different shape. Eventually we came to the topic of buildings and I explained to her why triangular buildings could have a better support system than rectangular shaped buildings.

As a collage graduate in the course of Science and Engineering (in my previous life) it got a bit heated up. Needless to say that we got a bit carried away.

"...Yes, but if you try to knock the building down via an airstrike it would-" I explained.

"-But then steel framing combined with stone outer can help to-" Annabeth countered.

"-Negate the force of impact, I know. But if a triangular-"

"-triangular shaped buildings are great in beauty, but in terms of base, it still has-"

"-Four sides and therefore does not count as a proper prism/triangle for that matter. I know-"

In the end, Annabeth won the debate, though judging by the grudging look of respect she gave me that she was starting to get convinced that she was wrong. Almost. But her pride kept her going. I clutched my head as it ached. Doing a mental battle against a smart opponent was hard. Even more so if it was against a specialist in the subject.

But a daughter of Athena?

Forget about it.

Annabeth led me back to the Big-House (the place Mr. D was a few thirty minutes ago) with a smile on her face. It was clear that she thought-no- _knew,_ that I was tired, but she still teased me all the way to the Big-House. She waved me goodbye and went back to her spot near Cabin 11 to continue reading her book on Architecture.

I neared closer to their conversation and hid behind a nearby pillar as sneakily as I could.

"...A god. You."

He turned to look at Percy straight on, and I saw a kind of purplish fire in his eyes, a hint that this whiny, plump little man was only showing me the tiniest bit of his true nature. I flinched. I saw visions of grape vines choking unbelievers to death, drunken warriors insane with battle lust, sailors screaming as their hands turned to flippers, their faces elongating into dolphin snouts. I knew that if I pushed him, Mr. D would show us worse things. He would plant a disease in my brain that would leave me wearing a strait-jacket in a rubber room for the rest of my life.

I took a step back.

"Would you like to test me, child?" he said quietly.

Percy responded quickly. "No. No, sir."

The fire died a little. He turned back to his card game. "I believe I win."

"Not quite, Mr. D," Chiron said. He set down a straight, tallied the points, and said, "The game goes to me."

I thought Mr. D was going to vaporize Chiron right out of his wheelchair, but he just sighed through his nose, as if he were used to being beaten by the Latin/Heroes teacher. He got up, and Grover rose, too.

"I'm tired," Mr. D said. "I believe I'll take a nap before the sing-along tonight. But first, Grover, we need to talk, again, about your less-than-perfect performance on this assignment."

Grover's face beaded with sweat. "Y-yes, sir."

Mr. D turned to Percy. "Cabin eleven, Percy Jackson. And mind your manners."

He swept into the farmhouse, Grover following miserably.

"Oh and Theodore?" Mr. D. said. A small smile playing on his lips. "Please try to avoid eavesdropping on people's conversations. It's disgraceful." And then he walked, leaving a faint scent of grapes.

"Will Grover be alright?" I asked Chiron. Revealing my spot to the two remaining people in the area.

Chiron smiled. "Ah Theodore! How nice of you to join us. Tell me, how are you settling in?"

"Splendidly. Annabeth showed me the ropes." I gestured to my clean face and freshly combed hair.

"Theodore!" Percy exclaimed. He looked a bit disheveled and confused by everything that was happening. "Where were you?"

"Cabin 11."

"What?"

I shrugged, "Annabeth will explain it to you later. Anyway hows Grover?"

Chiron nodded, though he looked a bit troubled. "Old Dionysus isn't really mad. He just hates his job. He's been ... ah, grounded, I guess you would say, and he can't stand waiting another century before he's allowed to go back to Olympus."

"Mount Olympus," Percy said in awe. "You're telling me there really is a palace there?"

"Well now, there's Mount Olympus in Greece." Chiron started,"And then there's the home of the gods, the convergence point of their powers, which did indeed used to be on Mount Olympus. It's still called Mount Olympus, out of respect to the old ways, but the palace moves, Percy, just as the gods do."

"You mean the Greek gods are here? Like ... in _America?"_ Percy asked with disbelief.

"Well, certainly. The gods move with the heart of the West."

"The what?"

"Come now, Percy. What you call 'Western civilization.' Do you think it's just an abstract concept? No, it's a living force. A collective consciousness that has burned bright for thousands of years. The gods are part of it. You might even say they are the source of it, or at least, they are tied so tightly to it that they couldn't possibly fade, not unless all of Western civilization were obliterated. The fire started in Greece. Then, as you well know-or as I hope you know, since you passed my course-the heart of the fire moved to Rome, and so did the gods. Oh, different names, perhaps-Jupiter for Zeus, Venus for Aphrodite, and so on-but the same forces, the same gods."

Percy said slowly. "-And then they died."

"Died? No. Did the West die? The gods simply moved, to Germany, to France, to Spain, for a while. Wherever the flame was brightest, the gods were there. They spent several centuries in England. All you need to do is look at the architecture. People do not forget the gods. Every place they've ruled, for the last three thousand years, you can see them in paintings, in statues, on the most important buildings. And yes, Percy, of course they are now in your United States. Look at your symbol, the eagle of Zeus. Look at the statue of Prometheus in Rockefeller Center, the Greek facades of your government buildings in Washington. I defy you to find any American city where the Olympians are not prominently displayed in multiple places. Like it or not-and believe me, plenty of people weren't very fond of Rome, either America is now the heart of the flame. It is the great power of the West. And so Olympus is here. And we are here."

I nodded carefully. Processing the information I have already known in my head once more. I mean, there's a _difference_ between what _you_ know, and what _others_ know. So when Chiron confirmed it-well, Percy didn't look so good.

I guess it _was_ all _too much,_ especially the fact that Percy and I seemed to be included in Chiron's _we,_ as if we were part of some club. I could almost see the internal battle in his mind. Finally Percy looked at Chiron and I as if we were some aliens.

"Who are _you,_ Chiron? _Who_ ... who _am_ _I_?"

Chiron smiled. He shifted his weight as if he were going to get up out of his wheelchair. Percy's expression turned confused once more.

_Of course he is._ I thought to myself. _Mr. Brunner was paralyzed from the waist down._

"Who are you?" He mused. "Well, that's the question we all want answered, isn't it? But for now, we should get you a bunk in cabin eleven. There will be new friends to meet. And plenty of time for lessons tomorrow. Besides, there will be s'mores at the campfire tonight, and I simply adore chocolate."

_But he was not Mr. Brunner._

And then he did rise from his wheelchair. But there was something odd about the way he did it. His blanket fell away from his legs, but the legs didn't move. His waist kept getting longer, rising above his belt. At first, I thought he was wearing very long, white velvet underwear, but as he kept rising out of the chair, taller than any man, I realized that the velvet underwear wasn't underwear; it was the front of an animal, muscle and sinew under coarse white fur. And the wheelchair wasn't a chair. It was some kind of container, an enormous box on wheels, and it must've been magic, because there's no way it could've held all of him. A leg came out, long and knobby-kneed, with a huge polished hoof. Then another front leg, then hindquarters, and then the box was empty, nothing but a metal shell with a couple of fake human legs attached.

I wanted to faint when I first saw Chiron in his full form, but I figured that it would offend the thousand year old centaur. So instead, I stared at the horse who had just sprung from the wheelchair: a huge white stallion. But where its neck should be was the upper body of my Latin teacher, smoothly grafted to the horse's trunk.

Percy gaped at Chiron with awe.

"What a relief," the centaur said. "I'd been cooped up in there so long, my fetlocks had fallen asleep. Now, come, Theodore and Percy Jackson. Let's meet the other campers."

* * *

**A.N.: Okay, I know that I'm probably a jerk for not thanking the people who reviewed this story so far so I'll say it. "Thank you for your awesome review/s, TigerL1ly81, Vatsyayana 69 and violetmusime for your Wonderful reviews! Even though there are currently only three who reviewed. Thanks anyway!" Oh, and guys/girls I need your help for Theodore's love interest and all that fluff.**

**It could be anybody from the Percy Jackson Universe. And Yes, it could be girls who originally have boyfriends, though that would be tricky. I'll be setting up a poll soon. (If I could conquer this faulty computer first)**


	15. Chapter 14

**Disclaimer: I don't ****own Percy Jackson. **

**Chapter 8**

We passed the volleyball pit once more. Several of the campers nudged each other. One pointed to the Minotaur horn and arrow Percy and I were carrying. Another said, "That's them."

I clutched my head with a groan, having a conversation with Grover before about our popularity with the campers.

_Dang headache..._

Most of the campers were older than me. Their satyr friends were bigger than Grover, all of them trotting around in orange CAMP HALF-BLOOD T-shirts, with nothing else to cover their bare shaggy hindquarters. I wasn't normally shy, but the way they stared at me made me uncomfortable. I felt like they were expecting me to do a flip or something.

I took a glance at Percy and I could feel his anxiousness as well.

I looked back at the farmhouse. Percy was checking out the brass eagle weather vane on top when something caught his eye, a shadow in the uppermost window of the attic gable. Something had moved the curtain, just for a second, and Percy and I got the distinct impression that we were being watched.

We walked through the strawberry fields, where campers were picking bushels of berries while a satyr played a tune on a reed pipe.

Chiron told me the camp grew a nice crop for export to New York restaurants and Mount Olympus. "It pays our expenses," he explained. "And the strawberries take almost no effort."

He said Mr. D had this effect on fruit-bearing plants: they just went crazy when he was around. It worked best with wine grapes, but Mr. D was restricted from growing those, so they grew strawberries instead.

I ignored bits and parts of the conversation. Grover already showed everything I needed to know to me. I watched the satyr playing his pipe. His music was causing lines of bugs to leave the strawberry patch in every direction, like refugees fleeing a fire. I wondered if Grover could work that kind of magic with music. I wondered if he was still inside the farmhouse, getting chewed out by Mr. D. Speaking about Grover...

"Grover won't get in too much trouble, will he?" Percy asked Chiron. "I mean ... he was a good protector. Really."

Chiron sighed. He shed his tweed jacket and draped it over his horses back like a saddle. "Grover has big dreams, Percy. Perhaps bigger than are reasonable. To reach his goal, he must first demonstrate great courage by succeeding as a keeper, finding a new camper and bringing him safely to Half-Blood Hill."

"But he did that!" Percy defended.

"I might agree with you," Chiron said. "But it is not my place to judge. Dionysus and the Council of Cloven Elders must decide. I'm afraid they might not see this assignment as a success. After all, Grover lost you in New York. Then there's the unfortunate ... ah ... fate of your mother. And the fact that Grover was unconscious when you dragged him over the property line. The council might question whether this shows any courage on Grover's part."

Percy looked like he really wanted to protest. None of what happened was Grover's fault.

"He'll get a second chance, won't he?"

Chiron winced. "I'm afraid that was Grover's second chance, Percy. The council was not anxious to give him another, either, after what happened the first time, five years ago. Olympus knows, I advised him to wait longer before trying again. He's still so small for his age... ."

Curious, I asked. "How _old_ is he exactly?"

"Oh, twenty-eight."

"What!" Percy exclaimed. "And he's in sixth grade?"

"Satyrs mature half as fast as humans, Percy. Grover has been the equivalent of a middle school student for the past six years."

"That's horrible." I nodded agreeing with Percy. Going to middle-school six times before I could go to high school.

_The horror._

"Quite," Chiron agreed. "At any rate, Grover is a late bloomer, even by satyr standards, and not yet very accomplished at woodland magic. Alas, he was anxious to pursue his dream. Perhaps now he will find some other career... ."

"That's not fair," I said. "What happened the first time? Was it really so bad?"

Chiron looked away quickly. "Let's move along, shall we?"

But I wasn't quite ready to let the subject drop. Something had occurred to me when Chiron talked about my mother's fate, as if he were intentionally avoiding the word death.

I watched Percy's expression as he too realized the fact.

"Chiron," Percy said carefully. "If the gods and Olympus and all that are real ..."

Chiron tensed slightly. "Yes, child?"

I knew what he was gonna ask. I looked at Percy with a disapproving glare. "Percy, no."

But he ignored my look and asked his question. "Does that mean the Underworld is real, too?"

Chiron's expression darkened.

"Yes, child." He paused, as if choosing his words carefully. "There is a place where spirits go after death. But for now ... until we know more ... I would urge you to put that out of your mind."

But Percy didn't want to drop the subject. "What do you mean, 'until we know more'?"

"Come, Percy, Theodore. Let's see the woods."

As we got closer, I realized how huge the forest was. It took up at least a quarter of the valley, with trees so tall and thick, you could imagine nobody had been in there since the Native Americans.

Chiron said, "The woods are stocked, if you care to try your luck, but go armed."

"Stocked with what?" I asked. "Armed with what?"

"You'll see. Capture the flag is Friday night. Do you have your own sword and shield?"

Percy stuttered. "My own-?"

"No," Chiron said. "I don't suppose you two do. I think a size five will do. I'll visit the armory later."

We saw the archery range, the canoeing lake, the stables (which Chiron didn't seem to like very much), the javelin range, the sing-along amphitheater, and the arena where Chiron said they held sword and spear fights.

"Sword and spear fights?" I asked, in slight awe.

"Cabin challenges and all that," he explained. "Not lethal. Usually. Oh, yes, and there's the mess hall."

Chiron pointed to an outdoor pavilion framed in white Grecian columns on a hill overlooking the sea.

There were a dozen stone picnic tables. No roof. No walls.

"What do you do when it rains?" Percy asked.

Chiron looked at him as if he'd gone a little weird. I understood why. "We still have to eat, don't we?"

Finally, he showed us the cabins. There were twelve of them, nestled in the woods by the lake. It would have been an amazing sight if I hadn't seen it a couple of times before in the past few hours. Nonetheless the buildings were beautiful.

They all faced a commons area about the size of a soccer field, dotted with Greek statues, fountains, flower beds, and a couple of basketball hoops (which were more my speed). In the center of the field was a huge stone-lined firepit. Even though it was a warm afternoon, the hearth smoldered.

"Zeus and Hera?" Percy guessed, pointing to the Cabin numbers 1 and 2.

"Correct," Chiron said.

"Their cabins look empty."

"Several of the cabins are. That's true. No one ever stays in one or two."

Percy stopped in front of the first cabin on the left, cabin three.

It wasn't high and mighty like cabin one, but long and low and solid. The outer walls were of rough gray stone studded with pieces of seashell and coral, as if the slabs had been hewn straight from the bottom of the ocean floor. It was simply amazing and, _familiar_ somehow.

Just then, Percy peeked inside the open doorway and Chiron said, "Oh, I wouldn't do that!"

Before he could pull him back, I caught the salty scent of the interior, like the wind on the shore at Montauk. Suddenly, the scent was gone. The place felt so sad and lonely, I was glad when Chiron put his hand on his shoulder and said, "Come along, Percy."

Most of the other cabins were crowded with campers.

Number five was bright red-a real nasty paint job, as if the color had been splashed on with buckets and fists. The roof was lined with barbed wire. A stuffed wild boar's head hung over the doorway, and its eyes seemed to follow me. Inside I could see a bunch of mean-looking kids, both girls and boys, arm wrestling and arguing with each other while rock music blared. The loudest was a girl maybe thirteen or fourteen. She wore a size XXXL CAMP HALF-BLOOD T-shirt under a camouflage jacket.

She zeroed in on me and gave me an evil sneer. She reminded me of Nancy Bobofit, though the camper girl was much bigger and tougher looking, and her hair was long and stringy, and brown instead of red.

"We haven't seen any other centaurs," Percy observed.

"No," said Chiron sadly. "My kinsmen are a wild and barbaric folk, I'm afraid. You might encounter them in the wilderness, or at major sporting events. But you won't see any here."

Then something seemed to strike Percy in the head. "You said your name was Chiron. Are you really ..."

He smiled down at me. "The Chiron from the stories? Trainer of Hercules and all that? Yes, Percy, I am."

"But, shouldn't you be dead?"

Chiron paused, as if the question intrigued him. "I honestly don't know about should be. The truth is, I can't be dead. You see, eons ago the gods granted my wish. I could continue the work I loved. I could be a teacher of heroes as long as humanity needed me. I gained much from that wish ... and I gave up much. But I'm still here, so I can only assume I'm still needed."

I thought about being a teacher for three thousand years. It wouldn't have made my Top Ten Things to Wish For list.

"Doesn't it ever get boring?"

"No, no," he said. "Horribly depressing, at times, but never boring."

Percy asked. "Why depressing?"

I felt the need to speak up. "Don't you get it Percy? Being immortal and seeing your best friends and loved ones die before you? The fact that you can't _die_ and that you're stuck in between? It would be horrible."

Percy just became quiet and Chiron seemed to turn hard of hearing again.

"Oh, look," he said. "Annabeth is waiting for us."

The blond girl I'd met at the Big House was reading a book in front of the last cabin on the left, number eleven.

When we reached her, she looked Percy over critically, like she was still thinking about how much he drooled. But then she caught sight of me and smiled.

"Theodore." She greeted.

"Annabeth!" I exclaimed.

"Annabeth," Chiron said, surprise evident in his tone, "I see that you have met Theodore. I have masters' archery class at noon. Would you take Percy and Theodore from here?"

"Yes, sir."

"Cabin eleven," Chiron told me, gesturing toward the doorway. "Make yourself at home."Doorway, looking at the kids. They weren't bowing anymore. They were staring at us, sizing us up. I knew this routine. I'd gone through it at enough schools.

"Well?" Annabeth prompted. "Go on."

So naturally Percy tripped coming in the door and made a total fool of himself. There were some snickers from the campers, but none of them said anything. I glared at them, trying to protect our remaining pride. I helped Percy to his feet and glared at anyone, daring to contradict.

A few people flinched, but otherwise, silence. Annabeth announced, "Percy and Theodore Jackson, meet cabin eleven.

"Regular or undetermined?" somebody asked.

I didn't know what to say, but Annabeth said, "Undetermined."

Everybody groaned.

A guy who was a little older than the rest came forward. "Now, now, campers. That's what we're here for. Welcome, Percy. Theodore." A few snickers but Luke silenced them with a reprimanding glare."You can have those spots on the floor, right over there."

The guy was about nineteen, and he looked pretty cool. He was tall and muscular, with short-cropped sandy hair and a friendly smile. He wore an orange tank top, cutoffs, sandals, and a leather necklace with five different-colored clay beads. The only thing unsettling about his appearance was a thick white scar that ran from just beneath his right eye to his jaw, like an old knife slash.

"This is Luke," Annabeth said, and her voice sounded different somehow. I glanced over and could've sworn she was blushing. I saw Percy turn at around the same time as me. She saw us looking, and her expression hardened again. "He's your counselor for now."

"For now?" Percy asked.

"You're undetermined," Luke explained patiently. "They don't know what cabin to put you in, so you're here. Cabin eleven takes all newcomers, all visitors. Naturally, we would. Hermes, our patron, is the god of travelers."

I looked at the tiny section of floor they'd given me. I had nothing to put there to mark it as my own, no luggage, no clothes, no sleeping bag. Just the alabaster arrow. I thought about setting that down, but then I remembered that Hermes was also the god of thieves.

I looked around at the campers' faces, some sullen and suspicious, some grinning stupidly, some eyeing me as if they were waiting for a chance to pick my pockets.

"How long will we be here?" I asked.

"Good question," Luke said. "Until you're determined."

Percy continued. "How long will that take?"

The campers all laughed.

"Come on," Annabeth told me. "I'll show you the volleyball court."

Percy blinked. "But we've already seen it."

"Come on." She grabbed my wrist and dragged me outside. I could hear the kids of cabin eleven laughing behind me.

When we were a few feet away, Annabeth said, "Jackson, you have to do better than that."Then she paused for a moment, before correcting herself. She looked at the two of us as if we were guilty."You _both_ have to do better than that."

"What?"

She rolled her eyes and mumbled under her breath, "I can't believe I thought you were the one."

"What's your problem?" Percy was getting angry now. His eyes narrowed. "All I know is, I kill some bull guy-"

"Don't talk like that!" Annabeth told him. "You know how many kids at this camp wish they'd had your chance?"

"To get killed?"

"To fight the Minotaur! What do you think we train for?"

Percy shook my head. "Look, if the thing I fought really was the Minotaur, the same one in the stories ..."

"Yes."

"Then there's only one."

"Yes."

"And he died, like, a gajillion years ago, right? Theseus killed him in the labyrinth. So ..."

"Ehem." I mumbled. Smiling despite myself.

Percy caught my smile and grinned a bit, relieving the tension slightly. "Oh right."

"Monsters don't die, Percy. They can be killed. But they don't die." Annabeth continued, ignoring the small exchange and in the process, me.

"Oh, thanks. That clears it up."

"They don't have souls, like you and me. You can dispel them for a while, maybe even for a whole lifetime if you're lucky. But they are primal forces. Chiron calls them arche-types. Eventually, they reform."

"You mean if I killed one, accidentally, with a sword-" Percy started.

"The Fur ... I mean, your math teacher. That's right. She's still out there. You just made her very, very mad."

Percy looked alarmed. "How did you know about Mrs. Dodds?"

"You talk in your sleep." Annabeth said, as if it was an easy math question.

Percy looked at me as if I was in the "conspiracy theory" as well. I shrugged.

"She's right."

Percy then noticed something. "You almost called her something. A Fury? They're Hades' torturers, right?"

_Damn he's sharp._

Annabeth glanced nervously at the ground, as if she expected it to open up and swallow her. "You shouldn't call them by name, even here. We call them the Kindly Ones, if we have to speak of them at all."

"Look, is there anything we can say without it thundering?" I sounded whiny, even to myself, but right then I didn't care.

Percy then continued. "Why do I have to stay in cabin eleven, anyway? Why is everybody so crowded together? There are plenty of empty bunks right over there."

Percy pointed to the first few cabins, and Annabeth turned pale. "You don't just choose a cabin, Percy. It depends on who your parents are. Or ... your parent."

She stared at me, waiting for Percy and I to get it.

"My mom is Sally Jackson," I said. "She works at the candy store in Grand Central Station. At least, she used to."

"I'm sorry about your mom, Percy. But that's not what I mean. I'm talking about your other parent. Your dad."

"He's dead. We never knew him."

Annabeth sighed. Clearly, she'd had this conversation before with other kids. "Your father's not dead, Percy."

"How can you say that? You know him?"

"No, of course not."

"Then how can you say-"

"Because I know you. You wouldn't be here if you weren't one of us."

"You don't know anything about me."

"No?" She raised an eyebrow. "I bet you moved around from school to school. I bet you were kicked out of a lot of them."

"How-"

"Diagnosed with dyslexia. Probably ADHD, too."

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"Taken together, it's almost a sure sign. The letters float off the page when you read, right? That's because your mind is hardwired for ancient Greek. And the ADHD-you're impulsive, can't sit still in the classroom. That's your battle-field reflexes. In a real fight, they'd keep you alive. As for the attention problems, that's because you see too much, Percy, not too little. Your senses are better than a regular mortal's. Of course the teachers want you medicated. Most of them are monsters. They don't want you seeing them for what they are."

"You sound like ... you went through the same thing?"

"Most of the kids here did. If you weren't like us, you couldn't have survived the Minotaur, much less the ambrosia and nectar."

"Ambrosia and nectar?"

I interrupted the conversation, "Ambrosia and Nectar. Sure it's kinda hard to believe, but I've talked to a medic here and he basically explained the uses of Nectar and Ambrosia and its other..._ side effects _on a mortal."

Okay, so I may have been lying about being told by Will, though it wasn't exactly a _lie. To be honest, _I was really getting bored and I didn't want anyone to have a low opinion of me. Especially as a newbie.

Though killing a Minotaur probably won't keep you off the radar for to long.

"Side effects?" Percy asked.

Annabeth nodded, clearly happy to know that at least someone is on the same page as her. "The food and drink we were giving you to make you better. That stuff would've killed a normal kid. It would've turned your blood to fire and your bones to sand and you'd be dead. Face it. You're a half-blood."

Then a husky voice yelled, "Well! A newbie!"


End file.
